The Bestest Brother Ever
by Flagg1991
Summary: Leni loves her little brother to pieces and wants to have sex with him, but, like, she can't because he has spikey things and they'll get owies. Can she overcome her feelings, or will she totes give in? Dedicated to AberrantScript.
1. I Totes Love Lincy

Leni Loud loved one thing above all else: Her family. And among her family, she loved one member just a _little_ more than the others: Her brother Lincoln. Part of it was his little cowlick and chipped teeth, which combined to make him look like a cute little bunny rabbit; another part of it was, like, how nice he was. Whenever she needed someone to help her with a dress or something, he was always there. Granted, she had to nudge him along sometimes, and she could _probably_ get one of her sisters to do it, but she liked spending time with him. A few times, she took him to the mall with her and they had _sooo_ much fun; he really liked the comic book store, and while she kind of didn't, she liked going in there with him and seeing his face light up. He'd seek out a super special comic and tell her _all_ about it, and she'd listen, nodding and occasionally asking a question, but she wouldn't understand a word, just his excitement and joy. Those were _totes_ her favorite things _ever;_ they were, like, a drug or something, and she took any opportunity she could to see them. _Hi, Lincy, do you wanna play a video game? Hi, Lincoln! Do you wanna watch that really long King of the Rings movie with me? Hi, Linc! Wanna, like, let me see you being happy and stuff?_

Don't get her wrong, she loved _all_ of her siblings - she liked Luan's jokes, not because she got them (she didn't most of the time) but because they made Luan happy; she liked going to Lynn's games because Lynn was _really_ into sports and had fun; she even liked making mud pies with Lana because Lana _loved_ making mud pies. With Lincy, though, it was...special. Seeing him smiling and passionate made her feel funny in her stomach. She didn't know why, but she liked it. She also liked when he listened to her talk about the things _she_ liked: He was a totes good listener, and a good advice giverer too. If she had a problem, he helped her solve it, if she had a frown, he helped her revolve it. He gave the best hugs, too; when she hugged him, she felt good and warm and safe and all sorts of stuff. She felt _kind_ of the same way hugging Mom and Dad and her sisters, but not as much as she did when she hugged Lincoln. His hugs were, like, magic or something.

She loved him to pieces, in other words, and on a blustery October afternoon, as she walked home from school through golden sunshine and wind-swept falls of leaves, she had him on her mind: It was Friday, which meant they could stay up extra late and do stuff he liked, so she was really, like, pumped up, so much so that she walked faster than usual, leaving Lori and Luna in her dust. She was almost to the corner of Pine and Franklin when a car pulled up to the curb next to her and the window rolled down. "Hey, honey," a voice drew, "how's it going?"

She came to a halt and turned. A man grinned at her from behind the wheel of a battered red Pinto - he was _super_ fat with curly blonde hair, thick glasses, and bad acne. He wore a STAR WARS T-shirt that rode up his pale, hairy stomach and stretched tight across his boy boobies. Coarse, matted hair covered his chin and neck, and he wheezed as his eyes slithered up and down her body. He was kind of creepy, but Leni didn't like being mean to people, so she smiled. "Hi. It's, like, going good. You?"

The man nodded slowly and licked his chops. "Better now," he said huskily, "need a ride?"

Mom and Dad told her _never_ to accept a ride from a stranger - she wasn't the smartest Leni ever, but she wasn't stupid. "Um, no, thank you," she said and tried not to sound mean.

"Oh, come on," he said, "take a ride in the Millenium Falcon." He petted the dashboard like it was a cat.

Leni was starting to get really nervous. She looked to her right and saw Lori and Luna coming up the sidewalk, Lori bent over her phone and Luna bobbing her head to the music drifting from her earphones. "You can be the Leia to my Luke," he said; he was breathing faster now, and when Leni turned back, he reached for an inhaler and took a deep breath. "Or the Chewy to my Han." He tittered obscenely to himself and Leni gulped; there was a glint in his eye that she didn't like. She glanced down the sidewalk again just as Lori looked up; her brow furrowed and Leni mouthed _Help me_. Lori slapped Luna's arm and nodded toward Leni, then they both hurried over. Whew.

"What's going on here?" Lori demanded as she walked up.

The creeper's grin widened. "I was talking to the pretty girl - I've chosen her to be my mate."

Lori's face darkened. "Excuse me?"

Mate? Isn't that, like, what Luna called people when she was speaking British?

"I'm going to breed her like the bitch she is."

Luna leaned in and balled her fist - the creeper shrank back with a frightened _uhhhh_ and threw his hands up. "And I'm gonna beat you like the fat pedo you are."

"I'm sorry!"

"Get the fuck out of here before I call the cops."

The creeper's face went white; Luna stepped back, and he slammed on the gas, the Pinto taking off like a rocket. They watched it until it was a red blip in the distance. "Are you okay?" Lori asked worriedly.

"Yeah," Leni said, "he was just _really_ weird."

"And he almost _really_ died," Luna said. Her face was set in a glower. "Fucking dickhead."

They started walking again, and Leni made sure to stay between her sisters in case the creeper came back. They were a block from home when something occurred to her. "What did he mean by me being his mate?"

"Meant he wanted to do you," Luna said.

"Oh." Leni said. Then: "What does _do me_ mean?"

"Sex," Lori said, "he wanted to have sex with you."

A hot blush touched Leni's cheeks and she quickly stared down at her feet. She wasn't dumb - she knew what sex was: It's when the boy puts his penis in the girl's vagina (among other things). Being a normal girl, she felt turned on from time to time and _kind_ of wanted to try it, but when Mom gave her the talk, she said you only have sex with someone you _really_ love, and since she didn't really love anyone besides her family, she couldn't have sex.

Well, she _could_ have sex with Dad or Lincoln, she guessed; she loved both of them. She loved her sisters too, but she wasn't into girls that way, just boys.

Tilting her head to one side, she pictured Lincoln naked - his face was red and this thingie was standing straight up. It was big, thick, and pulsed with every jagged beat of his heart. She saw herself sit next to him and wrap her hand around it, her fingers touching, brushing, exploring.

Suddenly she felt _really_ turned on - heart racing, stomach fluttery, girl parts twinging. In her vision, she laid her palms on his stomach and rubbed the slowly over his body, tracing every square inch of him as his breathing increased and he started to whisper her name…

A shiver raced down her spine, and Lori and Luna looked at her funny. "You okay?" Luna asked.

Leni nodded but didn't trust herself to speak.

"You're _literally_ red," Lori said, then lidded her eyes. "Having dirty thoughts about your special guy?"

Leni's eyes widened. How did she know?

Luna grinned and nudged Leni's arm. "We can always chase him down for you."

"You can _literally_ rule the galaxy with him."

Leni's brow pinched in confusion, then it hit her. Oh, they were talking about the creeper. "I was thinking about Lincoln," she said.

Lori and Luna's faces dropped. "What?" Lori asked.

"I was thinking about having sex with Lincoln," Leni replied serenely. "I _totes_ got turned on."

For a moment her sisters looked at her like she was crazy. "Are you serious?" Luna asked, her lips puckering as though she'd just tasted something.

Leni's head bobbed up and down. "Umhm. You can only have sex with people you love, and I love Lincoln." The last three words came out as a declaration. She did indeed love Lincoln, he was the bestest brother ever.

"Leni," Lori said firmly, and Leni turned to her. "Y-Y-You _literally_ don't have sex with your brother. That's-that's disgusting."

That final word struck her like a fist, and her jaw clenched. "Lincoln is _not_ disgusting. He's cute and nice and -"

"Your brother," Luna added.

"That too," Leni said sharply. Why would Lori say such a mean thing about Lincoln? Lincoln was always nice and went out of his way for her. She was, like, ungrateful. _She_ might not appreciate what a good brother Lincoln was, but Leni did

Lori grabbed her arm and they came to a shuffling stop. "Leni," Lori said, "you're not supposed to have sex with family members. It's wrong."

"Yeah," Luna said, "it's..it's not right."

"Why not?" Leni demanded. She was starting to get annoyed: She loved Lincoln and she was going to have sex with him, if they didn't like it, they could take a short walk off a long pier. She defiantly met Lori's gaze and held it. "Why is it wrong?"

A gust of wind rustled Lori's bangs and shook the leaves in the trees lining the sidewalk - red, yellow, and brown cascaded like embers from a fire. She took a deep breath, and when she spoke, it was with strained patience. "Because you have the same blood and the same DNA. That makes it wrong. You have to find someone _outside_ of your family to have sex with."

Okay, that didn't make sense: She and Lincoln did _not_ have the same blood - she wasn't good at science, but she knew darn well that everybody had their own blood. As for DNA, everyone had their own of that stuff too. For some reason, Lori and Luna didn't want her to have sex with Lincoln; maybe they were jealous because _they_ wanted to have sex with him. They didn't _need_ to be; you can, like, have sex with more than one person, you know. She started to say that, but the look in Lori's eyes made her shut up. She might not be the brightest tool in the shed, but she knew when she was fighting a losing battle. Like her Dad said, sometimes you have to cut your losses.

"Okay," she said.

Lori's brow furrowed. "That's it?"

"Yep," Leni said, "you're right, having sex with family members is totes gross." She looked at Lori's hand. "Can I have my arm back?"

Lori released her grip, and before she could say anything, Leni took off, leaving both of her sisters to look after, then, uneasily, at each other.

* * *

On his way home from school that Friday evening, Lincoln Loud stopped at the arcade for a quick round of Pac-Man...and to ask Carol Pingrey out.

Tall and slim with long blonde hair and soft brown eyes, Carol Pingrey was beautiful, and for as long as Lincoln had known her, he'd had a crush on her, which, come to think of it, had been almost a year; she started working at the arcade concession stand last November, and the first time he saw her, he tripped and fell because _wow_. Lincoln liked all kinds of women, but he had a thing for blondes (sometimes he wondered if it had to do with his sisters *shudder*).

Had she just been physically attractive, that would have been the end of it, but no...she was _nice_ too, always smiling, always upbeat, as friendly as a dog who's never been kicked. Just looking at her, you might expect Carol Pingrey to be stuck-up, but she wasn't. She was genuinely pleasant, and apparently Lincoln liked that in a girl. Surprising, since the last girl he liked, Ronnie Anne Santiago, was...not. She wasn't s bad as everyone made her out ot be, and once you were her friend, she was cool, but her demeanor was more guarded, a little more...what's the word...hostile? He didn't know if that fit or not, but suffice it to say, she wasn't like Carol. He really liked her, though, and when they didn't work out, he was kind or broken up.

Coincidentally, he met Carol around the same time. They say when God closes a door he opens a window.

Today, he walked through the door just after three-thirty, his face flush from the cold and his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. The place was deserted save for a few teenagers hanging out by the concession counter, some kids clustered around the Polybius cabinet, and an older guy in a leather jacket playing pinball. In an hour or so, every able bodied kid in Royal Woods would crowd in, and the floor would be so packed you could hardly move, but for now he virtually had it to himself.

He spotted Carol behind the L-shaped counter, dressed in her uniform: Red and white pinstripe shirt and white paper hat. He told her once that she looked like a barber pole, and her musical laughter was the sweetest he'd ever heard.

 _She's going to say no._

A sharp ripple went through Lincoln's stomach and his step faltered.

He knew.

Lincoln would never claim to be the smartest person in the room (because he wasn't), or the toughest (let's face it, folks, I'm kind of a runt), but he had a functioning brain in his head, and that brain told him the chances of Carol going out with him were infanismal at best and nonexistent at worst. He wasn't delusional, and he was fully prepared to be turned down, but, hey, it's worth a shot.

He reached the counter, stripped out of his coat, and draped it over the back of a stool. Carol stood over the deep fryer with her back to him, the bubbling hiss of grease choking the air. He climbed onto the seat and situated himself, hyper aware of the childlike way his legs dangled, feet well above the ground. Well, you _are_ eleven, buddy.

And Carol was seventeen. He knew. She was probably into guys her own age, and while that was normal...sigh, he wanted her to be into _him._ If she wasn't, she wasn't, but fingers crossed.

For some reason he was reminded of D-Day, that big World War II battle where the Americans and British landed on the beaches of Normandy, France. It was kind of an uphill battle: There were bluffs along the coast and heavy German fortifications, and the allies went head-on into a maelstrom of machine gun fire and artillery rounds. By all rights they should have lost, but they didn't - somehow they won. Maybe he would too.

Carol lifted the strainer, shook the excess grease off, and dumped a load of fries into a plastic wax-paper lined basket. She carried it over to the short arm of the counter and sat it down. Lincoln's eyes drifted to her butt and his cheeks flushed: Her red pants clung to it like a second skin, lovingly outlining its heart-shaped curves and contours. Lincoln's heart slammed and he glanced away when he felt himself starting to stir. Carol turned, saw him, and smiled brightly. "Hey, Linc!"

"Hey," he said and grinned. His heart was racing faster now and his stomach felt like it was going to drop onto the floor. Here I am...do or die.

And I feel like I'm gonna die.

She came over and stood in front of him, the light glinting off the gold colored name tag pinned to her left breast. Lincoln's eyes darted to it then away; he didn't wanna oogle her and look like a perv...he also didn't want to linger on the swell of her chest, because if he did, he'd start really thinking about it, imagining cupping its warm, creamy weight in his hand and kneading her nipple with his thumb.

"You want the usual?" she asked and crossed her arms beneath her breasts, lifting them slightly.

Lincoln exerted every ounce of self-control he had to look at her eyes instead. "Yeah, I'll do that," he said. His usual was a hot dog, fries, and a Coca-Cola. He wasn't necessarily a creature of habit, there was just very little on the menu - the pizza stank and the chicken tasted like wood, so it was either burgers or dogs.

"I, uh, I also wanna talk to you," he said, and cringed a little when he felt his blush deepen.

"Sure," she chirped, "just let me get your stuff and I'm all yours."

He knew she meant _I will give you my full and undivided attention provided I don't have other customers_ , but his heart still blasted as though she meant _I will give you my heart, mind...and body._ He smiled sheepishly, and when she turned, he let out a deep breath. Man, the idea of Carol being all his, to hold and kiss and touch, made him feel like he was going to swoon.

 _It's not going to happen; don't set yourself up for a fall._

No, it probably wasn't; he was keeping that firmly in front of him, that way the disappointment, when it came, wouldn't be as sharp. There _was_ a chance, however. It was a 0000.0001 percent chance, but so is winning the lottery, and it happens. The key is to not anticipate every scratch-off ticket you buy to be the big one, because if you do, you'll be crushed.

Carol dropped the strainer into the fry oil and it began to hiss. "We're getting a new game tomorrow," she said over her shoulder.

"Yeah?" he asked, trying to sound interested even though he didn't give two shits about video games right now.

She went over to the hot dog roller and opened the little door. "Umhm. It's, like, a shooter or something, you know, with the guns you point at the screen." She grabbed a hot dog with a pair of tongs and tossed her hair out of her face. Lincoln flicked his eyes up and down her body, imagining running his hands over her naked back.

"That sounds pretty cool," he said around a lump in his throat.

"I'm not very good at those games, but it looks pretty neat." She laid the hot dog in a bun and went over to the condiments.

"I can teach you," Lincoln said. He saw Carol at a game cabinet with her eye pressed to the scope of a plastic rifle and him behind, his body pressed against hers, one hand resting on her hip and his cheek grazing hers despite the fact she was much taller (it's a fantasy, not reality, cut me some slack). Her smell filled his nose and she turned her head slightly. _Like this, Linc?_ Their eyes met, their souls connected, then their lips…

A shudder tore through him and his dick began to inflate with passion.

Carol squeezed mustard and ketchup onto the hotdog - she knew just how he liked it. Yeah, because he came in here every day, but it was still nice. "Maybe," she allowed, "I'm not too big on gun games." She sat the dog into a basket, lifted the strainer, and shook.

A pang spread through his stomach. Almost go time. Now he was nervous, his stomach knotted, heart staggering like a drunk on his way home. She dumped the fries into the basket, turned, and brought it over with a smile. "Here you go," she said and sat it before him. She leaned against the edge of the counter and rested her cheek in her palm, her fingers threading through her silken hair. "Now what did you want to talk to me about?"

Lincoln's heart dropped into his stomach and his lungs crushed tightly, squeezing the air out like toothpaste from a tube. Suddenly his confidence, never much to begin with, was gone, and his throat was closed for the season. She watched him expectantly, her soft face framed by golden hair, and his cheeks burned. "Uh...I, uh…" he trailed off and glanced at his food. _Just do it. Like ripping off a Band-Aid - quick and (relatively) painless._

Right.

Carol lifted her brows and Lincoln swallowed. You gotta be smooth, Linc. Girls like smooth. Forcing a smile, he said, "I was wondering if maybe...you'd wanna see a movie this weekend."

For a moment she stared at him with a blank expression, then the corners of her mouth turned up in a grin. "Wow," she said and bowed her head in a swish of sweet smelling air. Lincoln swallowed again and fought the urge to throw up. Something told him she wasn't impressed. She looked up. "Are you really asking me out?"

Yeah, she wasn't into it.

Lincoln's heart fractured, but did not break. He was committed and had to see it through, though. "Well...I just thought...you know...maybe...it'd be fun."

She giggled. "Linc, you're cute." She pinched his cheek. "But a _little_ young for me."

Lincoln sighed. "I kind of figured."

She stood to her full height and splayed her hands on the counter. "If it makes you feel any better," she said, and Lincoln looked up hopefully, "if you were four years older, I'd have said yes." She winked and went off to help another customer; Lincoln followed her with his eyes, a strange mixture of hurt, shame, elation, happiness, and self-loathing flowing through him. Damn his parents for not having him earlier - he'd have a date with Carol Pingrey right now.

Well, his heart ached, but it wasn't all bad. One day, when he was older, and if she was still single…

 _Still in the game, Linc._

 _Still in the game._

* * *

Lisa Loud swiped the back of her hand across her forehead and drew a deep breath. Before her, a beaker bubbled with green liquid but did not explode as she half expected it to. Chalk that up as a win. She smiled archly to herself and sat back in her chair, her hands coming to rest on her lap.

It was Friday evening, and she was sitting at her lab as she had been since coming home from school. She planned to put in another hour of work, then retire and read - Freud or Nietzsche, she couldn't decide. Perhaps she would even delve into fiction; she possessed paperbacks by both Arthur C. Clarke and Robert A. Heinlein that looked promising. Or maybe she'd turn in early: The night was rife with possibilities.

Someone knocked on the door.

Normally, Lisa did not appreciate being interrupted during her experimentations, but because she didn't blow herself up and doom herself to spending the night picking glass shards out of her face, she was in a tolerable mood. "Enter," she called without turning. The chemical was still now, no longer a bubbling witches cauldron but a glassy millpond. Excellent.

The hinges squeaked. "Uh, Lise?"

"Yes, Lori, what is it?" Lisa asked. Typically, her eldest sister only endeavored to approach her when she required something: A cure for acne, breast enlargement cream (which didn't work, by the way - Lori's chest still resembled that of a girl much younger than her seventeen years), and, most recently, birth control pills. Lori, it would seem, was sexually active...not that Lisa particularly cared. She was at that age, after all.

The older girl didn't immediately reply. "Uh, I need to talk to you. _We_ need to talk to you."

Ah, the birth control failed too, now she and Bobby are expecting. Bother. She was surprised, then, when she turned to find Luna standing next to Lori, both of them looking unsettled. Lori shut the door and leaned against it with a weary sigh, her hand going to her forehead in a gesture bespeaking perplexion. Luna crossed her arms over her stomach and rubbed one elbow, her eyes downcast. They looked as though they had done something awful

Lisa sighed. "What did you do this time?"

"W-We didn't do anything," Luna said nervously.

"It's Leni," Lori said.

Oh. "What did _she_ do?"

Lori and Luna exchanged a hesitant glance, then Lori looked at Lisa. "We were walking home, and this creep pulled over and started hitting on her."

"We ran him off," Luna added, "and, like, a couple blocks later, she was acting funny. Blushing and smiling to herself."

Lisa crossed her arms and shifted into a more comfortable position. God alone knew how long she'd be here.

"So we started teasing her about liking him," Lori said. She, too, crossed her arms, as though against a chill. Lisa unconsciously glanced at the thermostat above Lily's crib: It was a toasty sixty-five. "And she said -" here she faltered and looked at Luna for assistance. Luna, for her part, glanced away. _Nah, dude-bro,_ Lisa could hear her saying. Lori swallowed and stared down at her feet. "She said she was thinking about Lincoln...and getting turned on."

If you were looking directly at Lisa, you would not have seen even the faintest ripple of emotion cross her face save, perhaps, for a slight expanding of the pupils. She shifted positions again and adjusted her glasses to buy herself some time. Human sexuality was a field of study that Lisa had neglected - there were far more interesting things to concern oneself with than the base mechanics of copulation. She was, therefore, somewhat ignorant on the matter. She was, however, well-versed in human psychology, and while she couldn't say she was expecting this, she wasn't overly surprised, either.

Lori and Luna both watched her with drawn expressions. "Well," Lisa said at length as she collected her thoughts, "that doesn't come as a shock, I suppose. Leni, despite her deficient mental faculties, _is_ a perfectly normal female when it comes to sexual development and maturity. She obviously doesn't have the capacity, however, to understand that one does not engage in copulation with one's close relatives. I assume you attempted to explain this to her and it didn't take."

Together, Lori and Luna nodded. "We told her that they have the same blood and DNA and that it's wrong," Lori said, "she told us she understood, but I don't think she did. We were hoping you could talk to her."

Steepling her fingers, Lisa scrunched her lips to one side in thought. Leni was, to be blunt, mildly retarded, a fluke of circumstance the likes of which simply _happen_. That she would become infatuated with her own brother during her sexual blossoming made sense. He was one of the only two males she routinely interacted with, and he _was_ an agreeable individual with many admirable and, indeed, perhaps, even attractive qualities. You could argue that she was simply confused - like a five-year-old girl who wants to 'marry' her father without understanding what marriage truly is - or you could say that she understood, on a basic level, what sex and romantic relationships were, but did not understand why close cospeciation precluded them.

In either case, explaining to her _why_ copulating with one's siblings is wrong most likely would not work. Again, to put it mildly, Leni was simple, and the relative complexities of the argument would sail right over her blonde head.

She was, in essence, a child, and therefore, the best approach was the one parents often used on children.

Five minutes later, she stood before Leni, flanked by Lori and Luna on either side. Leni sat on the edge of her bed with her knees pressed together and her hands folded in her lap, her brow furrowed quizzically. When Lisa entered, the older girl was browsing a fashion magazine. _A word, please,_ Lisa said, and the look of guilty confusion had not left Leni's face since.

"A little birdie tells me you've a crush," Lisa said now.

Leni blinked. "Was it a parrot? Because I don't know any parrots." She touched her index finger to her chin and rolled her eyes up to the ceiling in thought. "Or can other birds talk now, too?"

Lisa's smile strained just a little at the corners. "It's an expression," she explained, "Lori and Luna tell me you wish to...have sex with Lincoln."

Panic filled Leni's eyes and she jerked her head from Lori to Luna. _Like, totes why did you tell her?_ "N-Not anymore," she floundered, "they, like, told me it was gross now I don't want to do it."

Maybe she was just cynical, but Lisa did not trust her older sister as far as she could throw her, which, given her small stature, was not very farl. Holding up a forestalling hand, she said, "It's alright. I'm not angry with you, and I trust you completely to no longer want Lincoln in such a manner. I just figured that, since the topic came up, I should talk to you about sex."

Leni's brows furrowed. "Uh, Mom already talked to me about sex."

"I understand that," Lisa said, "but she did not give you the full story."

"She didn't?"

"No, she didn't." Lisa glanced at Luna. "Could you turn off the lights, please?" Luna looked at her strangely, then crossed the room and snapped the switch, plunging the room into semi darkness. Lisa pulled a remote from her pocket, pointed it at the wall, and pressed a button: An LCD screen slowly descended from seemingly nowhere.

On the bed, Leni squealed. "Oh, are we gonna watch a movie?"

"We are," Lisa said. When the screen was fully down, hovering feet off the floor, she pressed another button, and a cross-section diagram of a human penis appeared. "I assume you know what this is," Lisa said.

Leni nodded. "Yep. It's a penis."

"Correct," Lisa said. She pushed the button again, and the penis was replaced with a slide of a vagina. She pressed it a third time, and now both a penis _and_ a vagina appeared, facing one another like duelists across a misty plane. Lori sat heavily on Leni's right while Luna dropped to Leni's left, both of them with wary expressions. Lisa did not tell them what her plan was - it would be as much a surprise to them as it would be to Leni. "Sex, as you know, involves the insertion of the penis into the vaginal opening. The reason we do not have sex with our relatives is because our bodies are equipped with a strong biological aversion to incest."

She looked at Leni; her brows were furrowed in the most unmistakable articulation of bewilderment Lisa had ever seen. Sigh. "Do you know how clothes at the mall have a little thingie on them that makes the door beep if you don't pay for them first?"

Leni's head bobbed up and down.

"It's something like that. If a man puts his penis into a woman he is related to, his penis will know that it shouldn't be there." She clicked the button, and the onscreen penis suddenly sprouted wicked, wing-like razors from its sides. "And sharp thingies will come out and hurt you."

Leni gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. Lori narrowed her eyes in displeasure and Luna put her first to her mouth to stifle a laugh. Ignoring them, Lisa continued. "You'll get big owies and so will Lincoln."

At the mention of their brother's name, Leni's eyes widened and her face went white. "I-I don't want Lincoln to get owies," she said.

"I didn't figure you would," Lisa said, "you're a good big sister and you love him, right?"

Leni nodded. "He's, like, the bestest brother ever."

"Indeed. It is for that reason, then, that you can never have sex with him or you will both die a protracted and excruciating death."

Leni's hand fell into her lap, and she gaped, then bowed her head in sadness. "Okay. I _really_ won't have sex with him now. Pinkie promise." She held up her thumb.

"Good," Lisa said. She pressed a button, and the screen went dark and began to retract. "Now if you'll excuse me, I really must be getting back." She shoved the remote into her pocket and left the room, freezing when she Lori called her name...sharply.

She turned, and the older girl's eyebrows were angled down in an angry V. "Lise, I didn't want you to _lie_ to her," she said. Behind her, beyond the threshold, Luna awkwardly patted a downcast Leni's shoulder.

Lisa shrugged. "One works with what one has," Lisa said, "scaring her off was the only effective option I saw."

"But -"

"And I guarantee you she will no longer pursue a sexual relationship with Lincoln. Mark my words."

With that, she turned and went into her lab, the matter already forgotten. In the hall, Lori glanced over her shoulder at Leni and sighed sadly. Lisa was probably right, but she felt awful nevertheless.

Then her phone chimed with a text from Bobby, and she, too, forgot all about it.


	2. Smart Leni, Sneaky Leni

**Guest: No, the story will the apocalyptic setting is The Living and the Dead, which is Lynncoln and will be posted after this story.**

 **Nuuo: Lol, yeah, I had to give my boy E a part.**

Soft purple twilight lay across the land, and the streetlights up and down Franklin Avenue shone with electric brilliance. Lincoln, hands in his pockets, went up the porch steps, opened the door, and stepped inside, where it was uncomfortably warm after the cool night air. Lori sat in the middle of the couch, head hung over her phone, and Lucy sat against one arm, her arms crossed and her eyes hidden behind her bangs. Lincoln glanced at the TV, and cringed when a hulking giant in a mask brought a sledgehammer down on someone's head in a spurt of blood.

Every single day, Lincoln and his sisters went full _Road Warrior_ over the television, each wanting to watch their own program and each, to a one, willing to get there first or die trying. It was _clear_ who won the prize today, and from the tiny smile on her pale face, she was enjoying her victory immensely.

She just better hope Mom or Dad didn't walk in - there was a child lock but Lana fiddled with the satellite or some damn thing and let's just say the operative word _was_. If their parents found out, they'd probably ground everyone.

Closing the door, Lincoln shrugged out of his jacket and went upstairs, stepping over a skate on one tread and a plunger on the other. Without thinking, he sidestepped a soccer ball sitting by the top, and narrowly missed a fully inflated whoopie cushion strategically placed by his bedroom door. "Aw, man," Luan said disappointedly from her usual spot behind the end table.

"Gotta get up earlier," he said and went in, snapping the light on.

Living in a house with twelve other people, whether they were sisters, brothers, cousins, or randos, you eventually get used to the pratfalls. It works on the 'fool me once' principle: You can only trip on something or walk into a prank so many times before it stops being the other person's fault and becomes yours. By now, nearly twelve, he could navigate the house in the dark without a single slip, sleep through all but the loudest of noises (Lisa's lab explosions, basically), concentrate despite the noise, and smell one of Luan's set-ups from a mile away. He slipped here and there (I'm only human, guys), but for the most part, he'd fully adapted to his life, something a lot of people don't do until much later, if ever.

Tossing his coat onto the dresser, he crossed to his bed and sat, his elbows propped on his knees and his fingers pressed to his temples.

He wasn't devastated over Carol's rejection, but it hurt nonetheless, and knowing for certain that they weren't going to happen left a hollow feeling in his chest. Before, he could dream, but now cold, bleak reality had penetrated the fog of his fantasy and he no longer even had that. Carol was beautiful, okay, and he'd be a goddamn liar if he said her physical appearance (and her body!) didn't play a part in his attraction, but that wasn't all of it, or even most of it. It was her personality, the way she lit up the room, the sound of her voice and the gentleness in her eyes. A lot of girls he saw in the course of the day...the ones he _thought_ about (if ya know what I mean) were...well...he imagined having sex with them, but with Carol, he imagined so much more, like holding her hand and cuddling her in front of the TV or something. Just...being with her.

In short, he didn't like her...he loved her, or so he thought. He'd never been in actual love before so he couldn't really say. Knowing now that she wasn't interested in him hurt like a bastard, but he really had no right to expect any _other_ outcome, so he wasn't _too_ broken up over it. Instead of moping around with the covers over his head, he'd carry on, but he probably wouldn't feel too good for a while. Sigh.

From what she said, his age was the only problem. Maaaaaaybe if he turned on the charm and worked _really_ hard, he could get her to overlook it.

Yeah, that probably wasn't a good idea; he might wind up annoying her and making things weird. He liked her as a girl, but also as a friend too (he just wanted to combine the two - saves space *wink*). Not having her as a girlfriend sucked, but not having her period would suck even worse.

Hm. How should he handle this? If he took a few days off from going to see her ( _look at me, I'm not being annoying and sniffing around your butt_ ) it _might_ make her think he was hurt or mad or something. If he went back too soon (say, tomorrow), it might be...well...too soon.

Whew. Human relationships are complicated.

It's almost not even worth it.

But I really want her.

* * *

 _But I_ really _want him_ , Leni thought as she pouted into her vanity mirror. Ever since coming home, she'd been thinking of having sex with Lincy and it was making her _really_ turned on - when Lisa came in, she was so wet her panties were damp and her nipples ached. She was, like, looking at her magazine, but she was _not_ paying attention to it: She was paying attention to what Dream Lincy and Dream Leni were doing in her head.

Hint, it was hoooot.

Lincy was laying back on his bed, totally naked except for his socks, and she was bent over him, fully clothed, trailing kisses across his stomach and running her hands over his chest, her palms molding to his every dip and swell and her hair brushing across his fevered skin. He was soft and warm and tasted like boy. Yum!

In her vision, she was so turned on she trembled and couldn't think straight, so she let nature take its course - her panties slid down, her dress hiked up, her body slowly sank onto his, taking him to the hilt, squeezing him, loving him...then Lisa came in and Real Leni was sad.

Now she was even sadder because if she had sex with Lincy his spikey things would hurt them. She blew a puff of air that rustled her bangs and favored her reflection with a sullen gaze. It wasn't fair, Lincy was the bestest brother ever and she loved him and she was _sooo_ turned on and how could she _ever_ have sex now? She didn't love anyone outside of her family.

Hot tears filled her eyes and she blinked them away. She loved Lincy so much and she wanted to show him that. As it stood -

She froze. Somewhere deep in her brain, a crackle of electricity flashed in the darkness, and a realization formed, small at first like the pinprick light of a train rushing through a tunnel, then growing, getting bigger and brighter until it filled her head.

Gasp. It was an _idea._ And a preeeetty good one at that.

See, Lisa said that if Lincy's penis went into her vagina, his spikey things would activate; she didn't say _anything_ about it going into her hand...or her mouth. Sex is, like, more than just the penis going into the vagina. In fact, that was such a _small_ thing when you got right down to it. They could still do stuff together...they could love each other and make each other feel good without it...

Her core twinged and she pressed her thighs together with a giggle; she was _really_ proud of herself for finding that loophole - now she wasn't sad Leni anymore, she was happy Leni...and really turned on Leni, too. Was Lincy home yet? If he was, they could go into his room, shut the door, and do things to each other. Ummm. She bit her bottom lip and took a deep, shuddery breath through her nose: Her lips brushing wetly across his flesh and her fingers squeezing his penis; her lips wrapping around his head and pushing down, his musk filling her mouth and nose; his soft moans of pleasure and his bodywide twitches because she was making him feel _sooo_ good.

EEEEE! She wanted it, like, _now_.

Getting up, she went to the door and peeked into the hall, her hands fluttering to the frame and one foot leaving the floor; Lincy's door was closed, and feeble yellow light shone underneath the crack. Ooooh, he's _hereeeee_. She started out, but jumped back with a start when Lori appeared at the head of the stairs, her nose buried in her phone. Her hanging out with Lincy was nothing new, but after earlier, it might make Lori suspicious. Luna and Lisa too - if they saw her going into Lincy's room, they might think she was going to have sex with him and make her leave. Best to play it sneaky.

She hurried back to her vanity and sat just as Lori came in, sparing her a reflexive glance. She went over to her bed and kicked her shoes off, then sat and swung her legs up, her pink polished toes wiggling like little piggies tasting freedom - which they _totes_ were. Leni stared at her in the mirror and waited for her to get up and leave so she could go hang out with Lincy, but Lori leaned back against the headboard and shifted into a comfy position, which meant she was in it for the long haul.

Leni hung her head and sighed.

"You alright?" Lori asked, her voice tinged with concern.

"Yeah," Leni lied, "I just...I, like, remembered I have homework and I left it at school." She smiled at her lap - she wasn't usually this good at, like, thinking on her feet, and she was proud of herself.

Lori hummed disinterestedly. "You _always_ do that."

"I know," Leni said. _That_ was not a lie: She left her homework at school all the time, and sometimes she left it at home too. That didn't matter, though, what mattered was Lori was _totes_ keeping her from hanging out with Lincy. She had to get rid of her or something. How, though?

She tapped her chin and looked up at the ceiling. Let's see, let's see. You're _really_ smart today, Leni, you can come up with _something_.

Nope, nothing came, and Leni pouted at her reflection. If she wasn't texting Bobby, then maybe there wouldn't…

Her mind sparked and her eyes widened.

Yay, I got another idea!

Watching Lori warily in the mirror, she slipped her phone off the vanity, swiped her thumb across the screen, and went to her contacts; she looked down at it and grinned. At this rate she would be smarterer than Lisa soon.

She scrolled down until she found Bobby's number, then hit the little button that said SEND MESSAGE. She _was_ going to delete him since she never talked to him (except when he needed Lori advice, which didn't happen much anymore now that they'd been together for a while), but she never got around to it. Thank _goodness._

Dividing her attention between her phone and the mirror to make sure Lori wasn't looking at her, she typed out a message and hit SEND.

 _Hi bobby! Its me leni lori totes wants to go on a romantic date tonight but shes afrayed 2 ask u should take her on 1._

She smiled, then something occurred to her and she sent another.

 _Dont tell her i tolled u._

She sat the phone on the vanity and looked in the mirror: Lori's thumbs flew across the keyboard and her toes wiggled. She stopped, scanned the screen, and smiled widely. "Guess who's going on a date," she said in a singsong voice. Leni fisted her hands in excitement. My plan is, like, coming to fruit wishin'. She patted herself on the back because she deserved it, then patted her head because her brain deserved it too.

Lori got up, tossed her phone onto the bed, and went to the closest, where she rummaged around _forever_ before finally settling on a blue dress with straps and a little bow on the hem. She folded it over her forearm and left for the bathroom. "Have fun on your date," Leni said.

"I will~"

The little hilt to her voice told Leni that she and Bobby were going to have sex. It wouldn't be the first time - Leni had walked in on them, like, a bunch. That's how she knew so much about it: She saw them doing it and it totes looked like fun, so she looked it up on Google and found all sorts of pictures and videos that _really_ turned her on, some so much so that she saved them and looked at them when she was lying in bed at night. Not often, though, because that always led to her hiking her nightgown up around her hips and playing with herself until she went cross-eyed with pleasure and couldn't breathe. She sounded like a pervert but she really wasn't - she was a normal girl and she got turned on from time to time. Everyone does - that's what Mom said when she gave her the talk. _Everyone, like, gets turned on, Leni._ She didn't say it in those exact words, but they were close enough.

Anyway, is Lori almost gone? I wanna go see Lincy now.

She got her answer a few minutes later when Lori came back into the room wearing her dress and lots of makeup. She knelt beside her bed, reached underneath, and pulled out her heels. "I'm really surprised Bobby asked me out," she said as she sat on the edge of her bed, "he said he was tired from work. It's _literally_ a miracle."

"I know, right?" Leni asked. "Like, strange."

Lori pulled her shoes on and got to her feet. "I hope he takes me to that new Italian-Chinese place in Elk Park," she said and grabbed her purse, "I hear their ravioli wontons are _literally_ the best."

Ummm, that _did_ sound good.

But not as good as a Lincy wanton - with warm, creamy filling that dribbles down your chin when you eat it.

When Lori _finally_ left, Leni waited a few minutes, then went into the hall - it was empty. She cocked her head, listened for a moment, then crept to Lincoln's door like a cat burglar. At the head of the stairwell, she paused and looked down - she could hear the TV, Luan laughing, and everyone else groaning. No one was paying attention to her or to what she was doing, which was good because they, like, would _not_ approve.

And that made it all the more exciting.

Pressing her ear to the door, she balled her fist and knocked, her heart suddenly racing and her stomach clutching. He didn't answer, so she turned the knob, pushed the door open, and poked her head in: He sat with his back against the headboard, his head bowed and his hands tented in front of his face. Her heart jagged in her chest and her throat went drier than one of Mom's cakes (she was totes not a good bakerer). "H-Hi, Lincoln." she said. Lincoln looked up, and for a brief second there was sadness in his eyes, and her heart broke.

"Hey," he said - he even _sounded_ sad.

"Are you okay?" she asked worriedly and came in, not even thinking to close the door behind her. She sat on the bed and turned to face him, her plan to have sex with him almost completely forgotten - if Lincy was upset, making sure he was okay, like, took presidents.

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay, why?"

Leni pouted. "You looked sad." She drew the last word out.

Lincoln opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again and sighed. He ticked his head from side-to-side. "Maybe a little bit," he allowed.

"Why?" Leni asked, a wounded inflection in her voice. Remember when she said she _really_ liked it when Lincoln was happy and excited? Well, it was the same for when he was sad but, like, the opposite: Seeing him feel bad made _her_ feel bad and she hated it. He didn't seem _too_ sad, but that wasn't the point: He _was_ and she wanted to cry now.

Bowing his head slightly like he was embarrassed, he smiled wanly. "It's nothing, really, I'm okay."

She didn't believe him. "You can tell me, Lincy," she said, "I'm your sister, you can tell me anything."

He looked up at her and seemed to think for a moment, then sighed. "It's really no big deal. I just...I asked Carol Pingrey out today and she turned me down, so I'm a little bummed."

Have you ever, like, been punched in the chest? Leni never had (she didn't think) but she imagined it would feel a lot like hearing that your Lincy had a crush on another girl...a girl who wasn't you. "O-Oh," she said, the center of her body pinching painfully. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Lincoln said. "I mean, I really like her but I kind of figured I didn't have a chance, so it's not like I'm going to cry down the front of my shirt."

Yeah, but Leni was. "T-That's good," she said and looked away so that he wouldn't see the hurt in her eyes. "I-I have to go, I just remembered I have to do something." Before he could reply, she got to her feet and hurried out, her eyes squeezed close against hot, welling tears.

In her room, she closed the door and flopped onto her bed, where she buried her face in her pillow and fought to keep from breaking down.

She didn't win, though.

She cried a _lot_ that night.

* * *

Lincoln woke Saturday morning from a dream of Carol Pingrey. It wasn't a dirty dream (though, admittedly, he _did_ have those) - in it, he asked her out and she said yes. When he came awake, wrapped in warm, lingering happiness, he was smiling. Then, realizing that it was a fantasy and nothing more, he frowned. Yesterday, he did not have high expectations, so while her rejection hurt, it was manageable. Today, after having her (albeit only in his head), it was like being shot in the chest, then having his heart ripped out while simultaneously being stabbed in the guts with a revving chainsaw.

Okay, now I _am_ really upset.

Sighing, he rolled onto his side, wrapped his arms around his chest, and drew his knees up. The fetal position, it's called, because that's how a baby chills in the womb. Not much room, you know. Lincoln kind of felt like a baby, especially when inexplicable tears filled his eyes. Kind of pathetic to curl up in bed and cry because a girl rejected you, huh? People say it's okay to show your emotions, and that's great, but he thought that maybe, just maybe, indulging in them wasn't such a good thing. People these days have a way of letting their feelings lead and dominate them because _hey, kids, it's okay to be a creature of emotion. Fuck logic._ He tried to strike a happy balance between heart and mind, but sometimes he tilted heavily one way or the other, usually the other, like now. He blotted his eyes with the heel of his palm and flopped onto his back.

Emotions are fine, but giving into them until you're prostrate and crippled is not, he decided, and he wasn't going to do it. He swung his legs out from under the covers, sat up, and raked a hand through his hair. He was tired, drained, and just wanted to lay back down and sleep until he was dead, so he'd do the opposite: Walk to the park or play football with Lynn, something, anything other than collapsing into a melancholy heap.

Getting up, he dragged himself into the hall on leaden feet. The bathroom door stood ajar and there was no line, which frankly shocked the hell out of him: It was just past 8 am on a Saturday, usually the queue was at _least_ five people deep. Did the rapture hit while I was asleep?

Lola's voice drifted up the stairs, high and whining.

Nope.

In the bathroom, he took his morning pee, then decided on a quick shower - he read somewhere that hot water spurs the brain to release endorphins, nature's painkiller. Cutting your wrists does the same thing, but that might be going a little far in this case. He was depressed, man, but not like _that_. He turned the water on, adjusted in, and got in, dipping his head under the spray; ticklish rivers coursed down his back and made him shiver.

She said if he was four years older, she'd have said yes. Four short years.

He grinned sardonically and grabbed the soap off the ledge. He got it, okay, four years isn't a big deal when you're in your thirties or even your late twenties, but when you're young, yeah, it's a _huge_ difference. Even so, he thought he was pretty mature for his age; he might be eleven in body, but in his mind and heart, where it counted, he was older, certainly as old as Carol.

Then again, he read colorful superhero comic books and got giddy-as-a-girl over video games and fantasy movies. That's kind of childish, isn't it?

Carol would probably think he was a lame-o and break up with him two minutes in. _I'm sorry, Lincoln, this just isn't working. You're too much of a kid._

Yeah, and that would probably be a fair assessment. In fact -

Someone pounded on the door and he started. "I gotta pee!" Lana called.

"It's open," he said; the hinges creaked and she darted in. He heard the telltale metallic clink of her overall clasps as she undid them, then the clunk of the toilet seat. When she started to pee, Lincoln winced. He hated it when one of his sisters used the commode when he was in the shower; it sounded so gross, and for some reason reminded him of a skunk spraying. He didn't know why - as far as he could remember, he'd never heard a skunk shooting its piss, that's just the image that came to mind.

"Ooooh, mama, that's the stuff," Lana sighed.

Lincoln couldn't suppress a chuckle. "You sound like Lynn taking a dump."

"I drank a _lot_ of apple juice last night." she said. "Me and Lola kind of had a competition."

Ah, that made sense. See, you wouldn't think Lynn and Lola had much in common, one being your stereotypical sports-fanatic jock and the other your equally stereotypical beauty queen, but think about it: They both competed, Lynn in ball and Lola in pageants. That's to say, you'd probably expect Lynn to be competitive, but Lola was too. Very much. Annoyingly so, in fact. Lana...well, she could be too. Come to think of it, everyone in the family had a little bit of cutthroat in them. Yes, even him. Lily didn't, but she'd learn. "Who won?" he asked as he lathered his chest.

"Me," Lana chirruped. The toilet flushed, and suddenly the water turned scalding. He hissed and jumped back, the soap falling from his hand and dropping to the floor.

"Sorry," Lana said sheepishly, "I forgot I wasn't supposed to flush."

When she was gone, he finished rinsing then cut the water. He felt better, but still not one hundred percent. He figured that was to be expected, though. In his room, he pulled on a pair of jeans and one of his many orange polo shirts - Mom picked a bunch up from the thrift store in town at a dollar a pop. He always kind of wondered who the hell _chose_ to own a dozen of the same shirt - someone had to have bought and worn them first, right? Maybe they were part of a uniform or something. That'd explain it: There was probably a cable company out there where all the technicians wear snazzy orange shirts and brown pants - they show up at your door looking like a pumpkin with a clipboard.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he reached for his shoes, and like a eureka revelation, a memory came to him - a memory of his Carol dream, and his heart crushed. They were staring into each other's eyes and leaning into a kiss, tiny, matching smiles on their lips. He _thought_ her palm was on his cheek and his hands on her hips, but he couldn't be sure. Either way, it was beautiful, and it filled his chest with such longing loss that he nearly doubled over.

Well...I _was_ feeling better.

He took a deep breath and hung his head - the urge to crawl under the covers was back and stronger than ever. His determination to do anything but was stronger too, so at least he had _that_ going for him. He was a lot of things, and maybe stubborn was one of them.

Not that being stubborn was a bad thing - in moderation. Everything was okay in small sips. Except for the plague and Nazism, maybe. Sighing, he got to his feet and went out into the hall just as Lynn dove out of her room, hit the ground, and rolled. Lana followed, but her feet tangled and she smacked the floor face fist, making Lincoln cringe. She popped up right as rain, though; guess it's true what they say about kids being resilient. Damn.

Like you're not a kid.

Well..

Carol thinks you are.

Alright, we're not doing this - I refuse to let myself brood on Carol Pingrey. In fact, brooding is something kids do. Grown men take their lumps and move on. Yeah, they might hurt, and that's okay, but they don't let it consume them, and neither would he.

Lynn jumped to her feet. "Better," she said, "but ya still need to work on your landing."

Sighing, Lana bowed her head. "I know. I keep tripping up."

Downstairs, a bunch of his sisters were gathered on the couch watching TV - he ignored them as he went into the kitchen because he was kind of busy trying to ward off thoughts of Carol: They assailed him from every side like black clad ninjas, and the moment he slipped, they'd knock him down and he'd be powerless to do anything but curl up and take their blows. At the fridge, he grabbed a Sam's Cola, popped the tab, and took a long, cold drink. He was hungry, but at the same time not - funny.

What should he do today? Clyde and his dads were antiquing across Royal County like drunks bar hopping, and...hm, that was it. He didn't have many close friends. He could always see what Rusty and Poppa Wheelie were up to, but, honestly, he kind of wanted to be alone.

The park it was, then.

He finished off his soda, tossed the can into the trash, and left by the back door: The day was warm and sunny with a light breeze from the west that stirred the foliage still remaining in the treetops; the tangy scent of burning leaves wafted over the fence separating their yard from Mr. Grouse's. Lincoln glanced over and spotted thin white smoke rising into the air. Normally he loved all things autumn, but now he simply sighed.

As he went around to the front, he considered taking his bike, but decided to walk instead. He took a left on the sidewalk and followed it, head down and hands in his pockets. Part of him - a bigger part than he liked - wanted to turn right up ahead and go to the arcade instead: Carol would just be starting her shift, and being around her always made him feel better. She was the cause of his current dejection, but maybe she was the cure as well. What was that expression about the hair of the dog that bit you? Wake up with a hangover and have a stiff drink. Sounded counterintuitive, but lots of things did and worked anyway.

The thought of seeing her face, though, and hearing her voice, of being so achingly close yet so, so far away made him stomach clench. No, he'd go to the park and walk around, clear his head a little.

At the corner of Franklin and Oakcrest Drive, he turned left, toward the park. Maybe he'd see her on Monday, but not today.

Not with such raw, watery sadness in his eyes.

* * *

Leni Loud always slept like a baby, but not Friday night - she lay awake long into the small hours of the morning, her unblinking eyes pointed at the ceiling and her fingers gripping the hem of her blanket. A tight band squeezed her chest and her stomach was all rocky and rolly like a storm tossed ship at sea. She tried going to sleep, but her mind went back to Lincy, and she couldn't tell what bothered her more: Him liking Carol Pingrey, or Carol not liking him back and making him sad. A Leni could stand being sad for herself, but not for her favorite Lincy...he was the bestest brother ever and his happiness was, like, the most important thing in the world.

Sometimes she thought it was the former, and other times she was certain it was the latter. Why did he like Carol and not her? Carol was, like, okay, but Leni was the one who loved him, who always did things for him and tried to make him smile. Carol didn't so any of those things, she just made hot dogs and stuff. Leni could make hotdogs too, ya know. It wasn't _that_ hard: You just wrapped it in foil and put it in the microwave. If Lincy wanted her to make him hot dogs, she'd make him all the hot dogs in the world. She would also, like, give him lots of hugs, snuggles, and kisses. Those are the best.

On the other hand, why would Carol say no to Lincy? He was _totes_ great: He looked like a cuddly bunny and he was super nice too. Why _else_ could you want in a guy? She was, like, luckier than she knew...a lot luckier than Leni.

It wasn't the end of the world, though; she and Lincy weren't going out or anything, so sneaky Leni could still swing in and swoop him up, she just had to, like, help him feel better. She didn't know how to do that, but she was really smart lately, so she could probably come up with something. Maybe take him to the comic book store, and then to lunch? No, that, like, didn't say _I_ REALLY _love you;_ she took him to the comic book store and out to eat all the time. It wasn't special, and right now Lincy needed something really special.

Sex?

Sex was special, and it really showed the other person how much you loved them because you, like, gave them your body and became one with them. She and Lincy couldn't have _real_ sex because of the spikies, but they could do other things, and while those weren't as intimate, they were still pretty, like, meaningful.

He was upset and might not be in the mood, though. Plus, he wanted Carol, not her.

Pout.

At one point, she got up and went to the bathroom, her head turning in the direction of Lincoln's door. She could crawl into bed with him, pull the blankets up, and hold him in her arms; cover his face with kisses and flick his little cowlick. Her heart said go, but he head said no, and because she was super smart today, she listened to her brain. He, like, might really _not_ want her. She figured she could take him out from under Carol's nose, but if he was that much in love with her, he'd say no.

Ugh.

This is, like, so hard.

In the bathroom, she peed, then went back to bed. Under the covers once more, she blew a puff of air and yanked her sleep mask over her eyes: Her heart hurt, her stomach hurt, and her mind hurt - she just wanted to go to sleep. That didn't happen, though; her brain was like a house party, and everyone was staying up alllll night. She tossed, turned, and finally got so frustrated that she sat up, sighed, and lifted the mask. Across the room, Lori was a dark shape huddled under her blanket, the sound of her breathing slow and steady.

She _really_ needed to do something for Lincy but she didn't know what. She leaned back against the headboard and crossed her arms over her chest. If she had a problem, Lincy would be right there to make it better, and he deserved the same from her - if she couldn't help him in his time of need, what kind of sister was she?

An awful one.

She was still trying to come up with an idea when she fell into a thin, fitful sleep. Dreams, like wisps of smoke, danced through the darkness, nonsensical smears of color and sound. When she came awake later, she was still sitting up, her head lolling to one side and her neck so stiff that bolts of pain shot into the middle of her skull when she moved. Her back was sore too, and when she stood up, a long, trembling moan fell from her lips. Is this how Pop-Pop feels every day? Because if it is, getting old is _totes_ dumb.

Rubbing the small of her back like a pregnant woman, she went into the hall, where Lori, Luna, Lucy, and Lola waited in line for the bathroom. She fell in behind the latter and yawned - her mind was, like, not working right and her eyes were really grainy. She blinked, rubbed them with her fist, then stretched.

When her turn finally came, she took a long but not very hot shower, the water soothing her tense muscles like a Lincy hug.

That's when it occurred to her that she still needed to come up with something to make him feel better. She frowned and thought really hard, but nothing came. Darn it. She really wanted to spend time with him, so maybe she'd have to settle for the comic book store after all; it wasn't very special but she could make do. She was smart Leni now, remember?

Done, she cut the spray, grabbed her towel from the closed toilet lid, and dried herself slowly, making sure that every patch of Leni skin was water free. Next, she slipped on her dress and stepped into her sandals then reached for…

Her sunglasses weren't on the sink.

Oh, no, not again,

Mom and Dad said, like, she would lose her head if it wasn't screwed on, and it was true, she lost stuff _all_ the time, especially her sunglasses. She lost those at least three times a week. Sighing, she felt along the countertop in case they turned invisible (just because it hadn't happened yet didn't mean it never would - you should really try to keep an open mind). Not finding them, she dropped to her knees and looked into the space between the toilet and the sink; they weren't there either. Is this, like, really happening?

She sighed in frustration and got up.

Oh, I know.

She smiled to herself.

They're on my head.

You have to get up _pretty_ early in the morning to fool the new, smart Leni, sunglasses. She reached up...and her heart dropped.

They weren't there either.

Oh no. She couldn't go without her sunglasses; they were, like, part of her outfit - you wouldn't kick around the house with no pants on, would you? Well...Lincy does, but that's okay because he's cute and every time she saw him in his undies she started feeling warm and tingly and _totes_ turned on.

Where was she again?

Right, her sunglasses. They were, like, part of her outfit; without them it wasn't complete. She might as well be missing her shoes or her panties. She _had_ to find them.

Grabbing her towel, she went out into the hall, nearly tripping over Lisa, who stood in front of the door. "Sorry," Leni said sheepishly, "My sunglasses are missing and I'm kind of freaking out."

Lisa looked up at her head, noticed they weren't there, and hummed. "I'm afraid I can't help you. Now if you'll excuse me…" she brushed past Leni, went into the bathroom, and closed the door behind her. Humph. Lincy would help me. See? That's why he's so great, he's always helping people and stuff, like a nun or something. He was also considerate: He waited for you to move instead of rudely pushing you out of the way.

She was in her room now, looking around with her finger on her chin and trying to remember why she came in here. She was missing something, something important. She lifted one foot, then the other - nope, not her shoes. Her underwear? She brushed her fingers along the outsides of her legs and hiked her dress up around her hips. Nope, she had those too. What was I…?

Sunglasses. Right. She tilted back her head drew a frustrated sigh. I thought I was extra smart Leni now, but I'm the same old not-so-smart Leni who loses her things and then forgets that the lost them, then forgets that she forgot until she found them hours or even days later. Oh well. People are, like, how they are. She went over to her bed and turned the covers down, then ran her hands across the mattress in case they got tangled in the sheets last night.

Nope.

Next she checked the nightstand, then behind the nightstand, then on either _side_ of the nightstand, then finally under the bed. They were _nowhere_. Did she, like, drop them in her dream or something? She hoped not because going back to the same dream is _really_ hard, so they were basically gone.

She got to her feet and caught a flash of movement through the window. She turned and - gasp - it's Lincy! He was following the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets and his gaze downcast; the wind slapped his cowlick back and forth like a waving hand.

A hand waving goodbye.

Where was he going? She wanted to spend time with him!

She turned away and started to follow, but froze when she remembered her dumb glasses were missing _yet again._ She couldn't leave the house like this; she'd be, like, basically naked. A cop would probably stop her and make her blow into a tube and say her ABCs backwards like on _Law and Order_ , but she wasn't too good with them _forward_ so she'd look suspicious and wind up in jail away from Lincy.

Uncharacteristic anger welled in her chest; she balled her fists and stomped her foot. This is grrrrr! She glanced at the vanity and blinked. "Oh," she said happily and went over, "there you are. I thought I, like, lost you again." She picked her sunglasses up and put them on the top of her head where they belonged.

Now to go get Lincy.

She grabbed her phone, shoved it into her pocket, and hurried the down the stairs, her fingers trailing along the bannister. At the bottom, she stepped on something squishy, and a loud, wet farting noise filled the world. "Ha!" Luan cried. She spun around on the couch and looked over the back, an elfin light dancing in her eyes. "Got'cha!"

Leni blinked. "Luan, that was, like, totes gross. You need to go check your underwear."

Luan's face fell and next to her, Lynn burst out laughing. Ignoring them, Leni went outside and rushed to the end of the driveway, but by the time she got there, Lincy was gone and the sidewalk stood empty. Noooo! Flashing, she kicked an empty soda can; it skitted and rolled across the pavement, falling off the curb and landing in the gutter. Now he was gone and she didn't know where he went! There goes making him feel better. Good job, Leni.

No, it wasn't her fault…

She snatched the sunglasses off of her head and jabbed them with her finger. "You," she hissed. "You made me late and I missed out on Lincy time because of it." She drew her hand back to throw them, but stopped at the last minute and put them on her head instead. It wasn't really their fault, it was hers for being dumb and forgetful. She _hated_ being ditzy Leni; she wanted to be smart. That's, like, probably why Lincy liked Carol - Carol wasn't dumb.

Now her heart was sad and she felt like crying. She could _really_ use a Lincy hug.

An idea struck her, and she brightened. She'd just go after him, like a detective. She wasn't _that_ dumb, she could totes do it.

Smiling to herself, she lifted her hands, wrists bent, and started down the sidewalk. Lincy, Lincy, I'm gonna find my Lincy doo-doo-doo. And later we're gonna do stuuuufffff. Like, thank you, Royal Woods, Leni Loud has left the building!

By now she was at the end of the street; she paused and looked both ways. He _had_ to have gone either left or right - there was nothing up ahead but more houses and then, eventually, the interstate. To the left was the park, and to the right was the arcade. If she knew her Lincy like she thought she did, he'd want to go somewhere fun. The six dollar question was: Which way did he go?

She hummed and tapped her finger against her chin. Left...or right? Right….or left? She looked one way, then the other, then back again. Lincy _really_ liked the arcade, but Carol worked there, and she made him sad, so he probably went to the park. Then again, maybe he went to see her anyway. Hmmm…

I have to _think_ like a Lincy.

Let's see….

 _I'm really nice and I love my family. I want Carol to be my girlfriend even though Leni would be so much better, but I'll see that soon enough so it's okay. I'm sad because Carol won't go out with me, and seeing her would totes make my heart hurt even worse, so I'm going to go to the park and_ not _the arcade._

She turned left and followed the sidewalk past a rush of ranch houses; trees lined the way and overhung the path, warm sunlight filtering through the leaves and dappling the concrete. Ahead, a black cat lay on its side; for a horrible second, Leni thought it was dead, but then it lifted its head and watched her warily, jumping up and darting when she got too close. Hm, for some reason she had that feeling you can only say when it's in French, like...wow, that's familiar. She tilted her head to one side in thought, then it hit her: When she was little she and Lori had a black cat just like that one. She couldn't remember if it was a boy or a girl, though - one day it got hit by a car and bought a farm or something.

Don't you, like, have to sign paperwork to buy a farm? If so, how can a cat do that? They don't have supposeable thumbs, they can't hold a pen.

Sigh.

And they called _her_ dumb.

She reached the end of the street and turned right: Houses flanked the right side of the road while dense woodland pressed close on the left, the trees blazing with rich autumnal colors. A few minutes later, she entered the park through the main gate: Off in the distance, kids climbed over playground equipment like monkeys and an old couple walked along a gravel path around a lake where ducks quacked and frogs perched on lily pads. She stopped and looked around. Hm...where was Lincy? There were, like, lots of trails zigzagging through the woods...maybe he was on one of those. He thought a lot and when he did he got kind of, like, spacy, so that made sense. Good job, Leni.

Putting her hands up, she crossed a wide, grassy field and swung around the pond in a wide circle, joining the path and going left, into the woods; trees closed in on either side, and the higher boughs blotted out the light of the sun, casting the world in shade. She opened her eyes and her step faltered; every scary movie she'd ever seen suddenly came back to her, and she gulped. She'd never been in the woods alone before.

Uhhh, I should, like, go back.

She started to turn, but stopped. Lincy was out there somewhere, and he needed her to make him feel better.

But the woods are scary.

Yeah, well, imagine Lincy being sad and alone. Isn't that scarier?

It was, she decided.

Taking a deep breath and summoning all the courage she could muster, she squared her shoulders and continued on, ready to run and scream bloody murder the moment she saw a hockey mask or heard a chainsaw. Okay, Leni, think happy things, like Lincy's smiling face. She looked back and forth, scanning the woods for signs of creepy monsters or crazy killers, but saw only trees, and, to her left, a stone foundation overgrown with vines.

A twig snapped to her right, and she spun on her heels with a cry - this is it, I'm totes gonna die.

There was nothing there.

Hm. I guess -

Another twig snapped, and something moved low to the ground. She looked down…

...and saw a cute bunny rabbit with floppy ears and a twitching nose; it stood on its hind legs and watched her curiously, its head tilted to one side and its whiskers quivering. Her heart melted into a puddle of goo and she balled her hands against her chest. "Hi," she drew, "I'm Leni. I'm looking for my brother Lincoln. Have you seen him? He has white hair and looks a lot like you." She frowned. "Only bigger. And more person like."

The rabbit cocked its head to the other side as if in thought. Awwww, he was so adorbs. She bent to pet him, but he turned and hopped off.

Leni blinked. "Wait! I wanna pet you!"

He didn't stop or even slow; leaves rustled under his little feet as he made a break for it. Standing up, Leni went after him, pushing through underbrush and ducking under branches, leaves crunching to dust beneath her sandals. "Come back!" She ducked her head, and a branch snagged her hair, pulling so hard tears sprang to her eyes. "Ow!" She yanked back and slapped the branch away, then pressed on, kicking a tree root; red agony shot up her leg and she hissed over clenched teeth.

Limping, she went around the trunk and spotted the rabbit ahead, bouncing deeper into the woods. "Come back!" she begged and followed. He stopped, looked back, then continued on his way. It was like he was mocking her or something. Try to follow me, Leni, bet you can't. I bet I can.

And she did, but lost track of him.

Sigh.

That's when something occurred to her and she looked around.

Sighing, she hung her head. "I'm lost."


	3. The Nature Queen Cometh

Lincoln Loud stood on the soft bank of a pond with his hands in his pockets and watched a family of ducks glide across the surface: A mama closely followed by four babies, all yellow and fuzzy, putting him in mind of toys in a tub. The wildlife inhabiting Ridgewood Park was so accustomed to humans that it would come right up to you as if to say hi. Once, he was walking along one of the many trails crisscrossing the woodland when a deer fell in behind him like a stray puppy, refusing to leave until he petted it. Another time, a squirrel ran up his leg, took up a perch on his shoulder, and spent ten minutes happily eating an acorn while Lincoln stayed perfectly still, too afraid of being lit up to move. Those little bastards bite _hard_ \- not this guy, though. The worst he did was leave crumbs on Lincoln's shirt.

It made sense that animals who'd interacted with people over generations would be used to them, Lincoln figured, but the animals _here_ took it to the extreme. You know what they reminded him of? Woodland creatures from a Disney movie, you know, the ones that frolic around as the heroine twirls and sings about being kind and wholesome. Far be it from him to hurt another living being (unless he had to, he supposed), but a hunter would have a field day in here. Like shooting ducks in a barrel.

Lincoln frowned and tilted his head. No, that's *fish* in a barrel. That means _easy,_ right? He thought, but now that he was thinking about it, he wasn't sure. He'd never shot a gun before so he didn't know much about them, but he imagined that getting a bead on a fish as it swam around would be a _little_ tricky. Unless you're using a shotgun, but that's kind of unfair, since shotguns scatter pellets everywhere: If you can't hit something with one of those, there's a problem.

He drew a deep breath and looked toward the main gate: Two stone pillars supporting a wrought iron arch with RIDGEWOOD PARK in foot high letters. He'd been here for close to ten minutes and you know what? He felt like lying down in the grass and going to sleep; that's to say, he was drained, like a vampire just got done with him. He was fine on the walk over, but right now *yawn*.

Depression will do that to you. As he made his way from Franklin, he started thinking about Carol again, and right now, even though his mind was focused on ducks and vampires, he could sense her presence on the edges of his consciousness, like a phantom lurking at a nighttime window, peering in and seeking ingress, held at bay only by the religious faith of the guy inside. The moment that faith lapsed, she'd rush in on a gust of wind and possess him. Too bad he was fading; one slip and he was done for.

Sighing, he turned his attention back to the ducks. The mama dipped her head beneath the surface, and her babies clustered worriedly around her. Looked like she was trying to teach them and they just weren't catching on.

An image of Leni flashed across his mind, and he frowned. He was so caught up in his own dejection last night that he didn't notice the way she jumped up and ran off after he told her about asking Carol out. It occurred to him later that it was kind of weird, but thoughts of Carol overtook it and shoved it down into the recesses of his mind. Now, all of a sudden, he was dwelling on it. She looked...hurt? He tilted his head to one side as if to dislodge the memory for closer inspection: He told her, and her face kind of...dropped; then she rushed out of the room like she was Lynn on her way to the can after a spicy meatball sub.

Now he felt like shit because he somehow upset her and was too dense to realize it even though it stared him in the face.

Sigh.

If you asked him, Lincoln Loud would say that he didn't have a favorite sister - they were all on the same level; they all had good qualities and bad qualities, he enjoyed spending time with each one...and sometimes he wanted to dropkick each one. The truth was, however, that he did have a favorite: Leni. She was sweet and kind and never did anything to intentionally hurt or screw him over. Well...there _was_ that thing with the 'sweet spot' but that was a general brawl, everyone hitting everyone else. And every time he or anyone else found money in the sofa, she was right there to get her cut. LOL. And -

Nevermind. Leni was a good-hearted person and the thought that she was upset and he just let it go without trying to make her feel better turned his stomach. Every time _he_ was down, she was right there to cheer him up; not doing the same for her put him slightly above Hitler on The Worst Human Beings List.

He threw his head back and groaned. He was in the mood for self-flagellation, and it just so happened he was _very_ good at it. Turning from the pond, he started walking, intent on losing himself in the simple task of putting one foot in front of the other. Before he knew it, he was on a path carving through the forest, trees blazing with color and thick undergrowth flanked either side, and dead brown leaves sweeping across the way on a tide of wind. Should he go to the arcade? Acting as though nothing happened, even talking to Carol and laughing, would probably be best - better than staying away. He was in there every single day recently, if he didn't show, and on a Saturday at that, it would look suspicious. He wanted to remain friends with her, and being distant isn't how you maintain a friendship. On the other hand, he was kind of scared things would be different, that the knowledge of his feelings would hang heavy between them, that their interactions wouldn't be as free and easy as they once were, that their relationship would be awkward and stilted. _I know he likes me and I don't like him, so I'm not going to be as friendly with him. I don't want to send the wrong signals or lead him on._

If he went in there today and she was aloof, his fractured heart would shatter, and the depression he felt now would _pale_ in comparison to the anguish he'd feel when she gave him his food without even looking at him then walked away.

He didn't want that, but he wanted, _needed_ to know...to know if it would be the same, or if it would be different. He drew a deep breath and let it out in a rush. His father called him 'the man with a plan' because he was always strategizing - how to get to the TV first, how to avoid this person, how to get the last soda without his sisters catching on. Right now, though, he was the man with _no_ plan...locked in indecision, his mind divided against itself; one half wanted to see Carol, the other half did not. They were evenly matched in terms of strength, finesse, and stamina, like two championship boxers in their prime. Either could win, or, more likely, they'd just pummel each other until the ref called it a tie.

Why did he open his stupid mouth? He _knew_ she wasn't going to say yes, he _knew_ his age would be an issue if nothing else, he _knew_ he'd be right here in torment the next day, but he did it anyway, and he didn't once stop to think _Jeez, this might kind of ruin our friendship. Maybe I shouldn't do it_. Man with a plan? Pfft, yeah, he sure planned _this_ one out. What's your next bright idea, Linc? Invading Russia in December? Better watch your step or you'll trip over the frozen husks of Napoleon and Hitler.

He just...he really liked her and he let that blind him; now the hope-tinged glasses were off and he could see clearly, and what he saw was the prospect of his friendship with a great girl being dashed like a schooner against a rocky shoreline. It'd be his fault, too, not hers. She didn't do anything wrong, _he_ did. Well...not wrong per se, but, you know, he was the one who thought taking a 0000.00001 percent chance was worth it. If she was weird around him, he had no one to blame but himself. He'd probably do the same thing if their roles were reversed - oh, wow, this little eleven-year-old girl has the hots for me...what do I do? Better keep my distance.

She _did_ say…

No, it doesn't matter what she said. She was six years older than him and always would be; when he was her age, she'd be twenty-three, probably in college, a thousand miles away, with a boyfriend, hell, maybe she'd even have a kid by then. Lots of girls do. And him? He'd _still_ be a kid - lucky to even have peach fuzz.

He couldn't change that, though. He just had to accept it and move on.

Moving on is hard, though, like trying to walk with a broken leg.

Ahead, the path curved to the left and crossed a dry creek bed via a gray and weathered footbridge. Lincoln was almost to it when a voice drifted through the brush on his left, faint and airy like a spring breeze. " _...please?"_

He sputtered to a stop, his mind suddenly going back to the image of a phantom looking through a window. It'd make a good book cover. _The Woods Are Haunted_.

" _...there?"_

His heart was slamming now and the back of his neck prickled. Every nerve ending in his body crackled and his mind screamed at his legs to move, but they were petrified. Ghosts aren't real, Linc. Yeah? Tell me that when I'm home and not alone in the woods.

" _...getting scared."_

The voice was closer now... _and he recognized it_.

Leni?

His frozen neck muscles released and he turned his head, catching a flash of movement through the trees - a quick swish of aquamarine and yellow.

Confusion filled him. What was she doing in the woods? "Leni?" he called and took a step off the path.

In the brush, twigs snapped and leaves crushed as she halted. "Lincoln?" she asked uncertainly.

"Yeah, it's me," he said. He opened his mouth to ask her what she was doing, but his words turned into a cry of alarm when she popped out from behind a tree, her face glowing and her eyes sparkling like crystals in sunlight. Her dress was rumpled and dirty, her hair messy and matted with twigs and leaves (crown of the nature queen), and her face was streaked with dirt and…

His heart dropped.

Blood.

Thin, shallow abasions crisscrossed her cheeks and arms, as though she'd heedlessly walked through briers and brambles. Which she probably did.

"Hi, Lincy!" she cried and waved. She stepped over a tree root creeping along the ground and came over; her feet were caked with mud and one of her knees was scraped.

For a moment Lincoln gaped, then found his voice. "Oh, my God, are you okay?"

She rocked back and forth on the balls of her heels, her hands clasping behind her back. "Yep," she said, then frowned slightly. "I got lost in the woods and the thornies cut me, but I _found_ you." With that, she swept him into a tight hug, his face burying in her stomach. The sweet smell of her perfume and the earthy scent of dirt filled his nose. He pulled away and stumbled back.

"What were you _doing_ out there?"

"Looking for you," she said serenely. The calm, even happy, tone of her voice contrasted with her disheveled state made Lincoln's head spin. "Actually, I got kind of sidetracked. There was this cute little bunny and he looked _sooo_ much like you then...I got lost." She hung her head in a momentary display of shame, then perked up again. "But I found you. Are you okay?"

Lincoln blinked. Here she was looking like something the cat dragged in, and she was wondering if _he_ was okay? "I'm fine," he said, "it's you I'm worried about. You're-You're all cut up!"

She shrugged and hummed. _Eh_. "I don't care about that, I care about you." Her face softened. "I know you're sad about Carol." She glanced down at her feet, then back up; if there was sadness, it wasn't in him, it was in her eyes. "Are you okay?"

Something about the anguish in her eyes made his stomach knot, and in that moment he would have done anything to cast it out, like Christ casting Legion into swine. His hand reached out on reflex and took hers. "I'm fine," he said and smiled. "I'm glad you're here. I was getting kind of lonely." That was only a half lie. He wasn't particularly lonely, but he was glad she was here. She had a way of lighting up the room, and when she walked in, the mood instantly lightened. Being around her always made him feel better, even if he was stubborn enough to think being alone was better.

A sunny smile crept across her face and her eyes positively glowed. "I'm, like, glad I'm here too." She threaded her slender fingers through his and squeezed; Lincoln's heart squeezed inexplicably too. "Do you wanna take a walk with me?" she asked. She watched him with hopefully expectation, as though he could possibly answer anything but _yes_. His gaze met hers, and his heart skipped a long, jagged beat - he'd never noticed the strands of gold weaving through her eyes like filaments of finery, or the flecks of brown smattered through her iris. She smiled, and they brightened. Not metaphorically, literally; they literally seemed to flare with luminescence...the soft flicker of the warmth and love which filled her like a low, comfortable fire in a hearth.

He'd heard women described as angelic before, and he always shook his head at how sappy and melodramatic it sounded. Right now, though, that was the only word he could come up with to describe Leni. Not just physically, but spiritually as well. She was everything he imagined an angel to be: Beautiful, ethereal, caring, tender, loving, everything else good and pure. Staring into her eyes and holding her hand, a gentle breeze stirred in his soul, like the advent of something...something unexplainable but familiar.

Strangely, he was reminded of Carol.

A lot, in fact.

That made him frown slightly.

"Do you?" Leni asked.

Lincoln blinked like a man coming awake from a trance. "Sure," he said and squeezed her hand back.

She smiled broadly, and Lincoln started to smile back, but she yanked him down the path and he nearly lost his balance. "So, that rabbit I saw was _sooo_ cute," she said and waved her hand. "He had, like, floppy ears and everything. He was kind of mean, though; he wouldn't let me pet him."

Lincoln got his feet under him and hurried to match her pace. She made no move to release his hand, and he made no move to seek release. "Well, some wild animals don't like to be petted," he explained.

"But, he wasn't, like, wild," Leni said, "he was really calm and cute. Like you."

A hot blush spread across Lincoln's face, and he was suddenly hyper aware of her hand in his, its shape, his fingers brushing her knuckles, the heat of her palm and the feeling of her sweat mingling with his. "It must not have been really cute," he joked; his voice sounded nervous and broken to even his own ears. He felt kind of like he did around Carol, he realized, shaky and self-conscious, and that perplexed him. _She's just your sister...s-she's Leni!_

Well, no shit; even so, he felt really awkward now.

"It was _totes_ adorbs," she said. They were crossing the bridge now, the boards wobbling loosely underfoot. The splintered handrails were carved with a tapestry of profanity and crude drawings left by generations of vandals: Lincoln spotted a penis, a swastika, and three different variations of the word 'fuck'. "Just like you." She turned and tapped the tip of his nose with her index finger; he winced and she giggled melodically.

Overhead, a crow cawed, its voice ringing errily through the forest. "Did I tell you about the weird guy yesterday?" she asked.

"No," Lincoln frowned. "What weird guy?"

"He, like, wanted me to be the choosey to his hands." She tilted her head back and squinted in confusion, her face puckering cutely. "I don't know," she said, her brow smoothing. "Something like that, but he was _totes_ a creeper"

Lincoln's stomach clutched. "Did he hurt you?" he asked.

Leni shook her head. "Nope. Lori and Luna scared him off."

Oh. Whew. With Leni's condition, it would be far, far too easy for someone to take advantage of her - a few boys had already tried, and on one occasion, a group of seniors convinced her to climb the flagpole in front of the school. When she told them no 'you'll see my underwear' they told her to take them off, to which she readily agreed. _Oh, good idea._

It bothered him to no end that there were people out there who'd prey on such a beautiful, innocent person as Leni. What the fuck was wrong with them? Didn't they understand how terrible that was?

Why are human beings such awful fucking creatures?

They were on the other side of the bridge; the path rose then twisted sharply to the right, disappearing behind a stand of trees. Lincoln's hand unconsciously squeezed hers, as if to keep her close, to protect her from the cold, evil world she was too beautiful and sweet natured for. "You know you never...take rides and stuff from strangers, right?" he asked uncertainly. He knew Mom and Dad, and Lori, and Lisa, and everyone else had taught her the basics - more than once - but he suddenly wanted to make sure.

She nodded. "Yep." She squeezed his hand. "I know _that,_ Lincy. But, like, can strangers take rides from me when I get a licence?"

"No," Lincoln blurted.

She turned and looked at him, then playfully rolled her eyes. "I was joking." Her eyes clouded and she looked down. "I'll _never_ get my licence."

It was mean and Lincoln hated himself for it, but he couldn't help thinking of her as Spongebob - she'd taken the driving test at least a half dozen times and failed miserably on each attempt. The closest she came was when he and his sisters worked with her over a period of weeks only for Lori to fuck it all up in a fit of jealousy. She apologized and tried to make it right, but Lincoln couldn't help still being irritated with her when he thought of it. _She was so close,_ he'd think as he glared at Lori from across the room, _and she was so excited_.

"Sure you will," he said, "you just have to keep trying."

A gust of wind blew a long strand of leaf and twig tangled hair into her face, and she brushed it behind her ear. "I've _been_ trying, though," she said, "and I keep messing it up. I'm a lost cause."

"No you're not," Lincoln said, "I still believe in you." He stole a sidelong glance at her, and the way she smiled made his heart race.

"Thank you, Lincy," she said, "I believe in you too."

They were out of the woods now and approaching the pond again, the land sloping down from the path on one side and trees falling away from the other. A pair of squirrels chase each other through tall grass, a raccoon watching disapprovingly from the foot of a leafy birch tree. Lincoln stared straight ahead and fought against the neigh irresistible urge to turn and look at his sister, to drink in her beauty - nature queen crown and all. His heart was beating unsteadily now, and the pit of his stomach rippled as if with sickness. He felt something, something he ought not feel, and it disturbed him; panic threatened to burst in his chest like a bomb, and he tried to pull away from her grasp, but she held tight and looked at him, her brow furrowing. "What's wrong?"

Her eyes were pooled with anxiety. _Did I do something wrong?_ He stopped and glanced away. "Nothing...my, uh, hand's just cramping."

"Oh," she said and let go, "sorry."

After her warmth, he was cold, and lonely. He lost the battle and turned his head. She smiled beautifically, and despite the dirt and scratches on her face, she was perfect, flawless from her twinkling blue eyes and her button nose to her pink lips and…

His stomach knotted and a metal band tightened around his chest. Oh, God, why am I thinking like that? You don't think like that about your sister.

Well, actually, there's nothing wrong with thinking your sister's beautiful...why are you being weird about it, Linc?

I'm not, I-I'm being _not_ weird. Heh. Just normal ol' Linc. See? He looked at her again, and this time instead of her beauty, he saw the abrasions, the dirt and dried blood. Yeah. Focus on that. "Let's go home and get you cleaned up," he said.

"Okay," she chirruped.

On the walk back, she prattled on and on about everything under the sun; Lincoln tried to listen, but couldn't concentrate. His mind kept going back to the path, when they clasped hands and stared into one another's eyes - somehow, though they were different, they were like Carol's, and looking into them...he felt the same emotions.

For his own sister.

A shiver raced down his spine.

Still...her eyes...her touch...the sound of her laughter...as wrong as it may be, he...he just felt the way he felt, okay?

Twenty minutes after leaving the park, they arrived home; Lola and Lana buzzed through the front yard in their Jeep, Lana behind the wheel and Lola waving to trees, drifts of dead leaves, and harvest decorations as though they were screaming fans crowding around for a glimpse at _the_ Lola Loud. Inside, Luan and Lucy were watching TV - a man in an oversized bowtie and multi colored clown wig cracked lame jokes into a microphone. Luan divided her attention between the screen and a notepad in her lap. "I gotta write that one down," she said of a particularly stupid crack. As Lincoln passed, Lucy looked up at him - her eyes were hidden behind her bangs but he could still feel them on him. "Kill me," she deadpanned.

He made a half-hearted gun with his finger, pointed it at her head, and jerked it: She fell limply against the arm of the couch and crossed her arms over her chest. Next to him, Leni gasped and rushed over. "Oh, my God, are you okay?"

Lucy didn't move, didn't speak. She was 'dead' after all. Leni started to hyperventilate. "Luan, I think something's wrong with Lucy." She looked at Lincoln. "What did you shoot her with?"

She was so cute he couldn't help laughing. "Nothing. She's playing."

On cue, Lucy sat up, her arms still crossed. "I'm a zombie now," she said, "and your brain smells good."

She leaned in and opened her mouth in a perfect O, and Leni jumped back with a cry. "She's playing," Lincoln said.

"I'm the one who should be afraid of you," Lucy said. "You look more like a zombie than I do."

Leni blinked in confusion, then understanding dawned in her eyes. "I got lost in the woods." She turned her head and smiled. "But Lincy found me. He's, like, a knight in shiny armor."

Lincoln blushed. Why was her calling him that so _satisfying?_ "Now I'm, uh, gonna be a doctor in a white coat," he said and started up the stairs, nodding for Leni to follow him.

She smile, held up her hands, and came behind. In the bathroom, he closed the toilet lid and motioned for her to sit, which she did, her back straight and her shoulders out, hands resting on her knees. The perfect patient.

Lincoln put his hands on his hips and looked her up and down, his eyes lingering on the bare skin of her smooth, shapely legs,and on the delicate curve of her throat. Guilt and shame washed through him like bitter wine, but the pit of his stomach fluttered and his heart slammed a sickly beat. She looked up and him, and their eyes locked, his breath stopping and his heart skipping. Leni smiled, and a beautiful pink blush crept across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. "Hi," she said nervously, and the sweet innocence in her voice melted his heart even as the implication that he was making her uncomfortable hurt his stomach.

"You're going to need a shower," he said in an attempt to pass his wandering eyes off as appraising eyes instead. He turned away and opened the medicine cabinet over the sink.

"I _know_ ," she said and laughed, "I'm, like, baby groot or something."

Lincoln chuckled fondly. Last Saturday they stayed up late and watched _Guardians of the Galaxy_ and _Guardians of the Galaxy 2_. It was a 'Lincy/Leni double feature' - her name for it. They made popcorn and sat together on the floor in front of the couch and spent the night together, Leni asking questions every five seconds and Lincoln doing his best to answer them. _Like, why is that guy a tree? And why does he say only one word? He's like Lily only bigger._

Normally someone talking during such a good movie would get on his nerves, but not Leni; he had a lot of fun. As he always did with her.

"I was thinking nature queen," he said as he took a bottle of alcohol and a pack of cotton balls from the cabinet. He ripped the latter open, took one out, then screwed the cap off the former. He stole a glance at her - leaves and twigs in her hair, face smudged with dirt, a beautiful queen resplendent in her regal vestments. She pinched her brow and tilted her head to the side in thought.

"Hm, I like that," she smiled. "Queen Leni, like, the first."

Lincoln grinned, held the cotton ball to the mouth of the bottle, and turned it over, wetting it. He sat the bottle aside and bent over her. "This is going to sting a little," he warned.

She nodded bravely and took a deep breath. He lightly pressed the cotton against one of the scratches, and she hissed in pain. "Sorry," he said and dabbed the wound gently, taking great care to hurt her as little as possible, as though she were something exquisite and precious. Which, to be fair, she was.

He moved onto a scrape along her nose; she squeezed her eyes shut and grimaced. His face hovered inches from hers, and the moisture coating his throat evaporated; his heart thundered against his ribs and his lips trembled.

God help him, he wanted to kiss her.

His own fucking sister.

He took a deep, shuddery breath through his nose, drawing her scent in by accident but not regretting it. He swallowed thickly and moved onto a thin red gash along her forehead. God, she was chewed up even worse than he thought. "You really did a number on yourself," he said as he swabbed the cotton across the wound. "Did you walk through a thorn patch?"

"No," Leni said, "I, like, walked around it, but it reached out and bit me." She crossed her arms indignantly over her chest.

Lincoln hummed and moved onto her arm, then, finally, to her legs. Kneeling on the cold tile, he checked her knee, grabbed another cotton ball, wetted it, then wiped it across the scratch. Leni threw her head back and stomped her foot. "I know, I'm sorry," he said, "but I have to do it."

"I know," she said through her teeth. "It's okay, Lincy."

The corners of his mouth twitched up in a smile at the sound of his name on her lips, then frowned when he realized what a perv he was being.

She hissed again. "Keep your mind off it," he said, "talk to me."

"What about?" she asked.

He shrugged and swiped a gash on her ankle. "Anything."

For a moment she was silent. "So...you like Carol, huh?"

His hands faltered and his heart stopped for a split second: With all that had happened over the past hour he'd completely forgotten about her. "Y-Yes," he said honestly. "I really like her." He stretched and rubbed a cut on her other leg; he didn't see the flicker of sadness in her eyes. "I'm just too young. It's no big deal. I knew she wouldn't say yes, I just...you know...figured it was worth a shot." He paused and surveyed her legs, seeing not their shape or their perfectly sculpted form, but his sister's owies...owies that he was responsible for fixing. "That's what you do when you like someone - no matter the consequences or the likelihood of failing, you take a chance."

He looked up at her, and she seemed to ponder his words with a level of profundity she was certainly capable of, but rarely reached, head down, brows furrowed, eyes squinting, lips pressed tightly together - she looked like a little girl making her way through a difficult concept, like where babies come from, maybe, or why the sky is blue. "You okay?" he asked bemusedly.

Her eyes cleared and she turned her head to him; her expression was blank for a moment, then she broke out in a big, heart-quickening smile. "Yep."

"Good," he said, and got to his feet. "Now take that shower, nature queen."

She preened, and Lincoln came _this_ close to cupping her cheek in his hand and kissing her. As he walked away, strange and conflicting emotions roiling in his chest, shame, guilt, love, affection, self-loathing, and disgust, he could only think of one thing, and hated himself for it: Hot water and soap suds sluicing down Leni's naked body, dripping over her nipples and along the folds where her legs met her hips.

Lincoln Loud considered himself a normal, healthy boy who was comfortable in his sexuality, and never had he been ashamed of an erection the way he was now.

And he hoped to never be again.


	4. Like, A Totes Genius Plan

Leni Loud stared at herself in the bathroom mirror, her head cocked to one side and her brow pinched in thought; her index finger absently tapped her chin and her eyes darted across her reflection in a crazy up, down, all around pattern that was, like, _totes_ making her dizzy. She wore a long aquamarina bathrobe and a white towel wrapped around her head like a turban. Steam left over from her shower swirled through the wet air like smoke, and she was reminded of the time she and Luna went to a CD/CA concert and they had smoke machines onstage. Lol, Leni thought it was a fire and got scared - Luna did say they were _fire_ , could you really blame her? Fire meant, like, cool, though. Words and, like, how people use them are funny: Everyone was always saying something and then _no, it_ really _means this._ Take the saying _it's raining cats and dogs_. Why would someone say that if cats and dogs weren't really falling out of the sky?

And people said _she_ was dumb. Humph. At least _I_ say what I mean.

Like how later I'm going to tell Lincy I love him...and then show him.

All during her shower, she'd been turning his words over and over in her mind; if you love someone and want to be with them, you have to take a chance even if you might, like, fail. She loved him and he would be the _perfect_ boyfriend, so tonight, after dinner, she was going to make her move.

The only problem was he _really_ liked Carol and he was, like, hung up on her. That's another funny expression, though in this case she could _kind_ of see where it came from: Carol was like a net, and Lincy was a poor little fish who got stuck in it and couldn't get out no matter _how_ much he flopped. Leni was the kind little girl who wanted to get the fishy free, take it home, and love it, but he kept wiggling around and saying _but I_ like _the net._ *Sniff* You don't like _me?_

In a situation like this, what's a Leni to do?

Tap, tap, tap.

The glass was fogged again, and Leni wiped the condensation away with her hand, then stared at herself. And that wasn't even _all_ of it: She and Lincy couldn't even have sex because of his spikey things. They could do sex _stuff_ to each other (like rub one another until they both tumbled over the peak into toe-curling ecstasy), but not technical oh-my-god-that-looks-so-fun-and-hot sex. That was, like, a really small thing, but it made her sad anyway: It was something she really wanted to do with someone she really loved but she couldn't. She could make do with other things (like slowly licking his thing from base to tip and back again until he cried her name and shot his load), but she wanted to become one with him, for her body to accept his body, for them to be, like, the same in flesh and spirit - not Leni or Lincy but, like, Lenicy or Lincyeni.

That couldn't happen, though, because stupid science. Leni _hated_ science. And math too, but right now she hated science so much more, like grrrr, you're so mean, science, I just want to make love to my amazing little brother but you're all _no, Leni: Spikey things, activate!_ I wonder if there's, like, a way to get _around_ them. Or trick them. Maybe if he wears a condom there will be enough of a barrier that his peeny won't know that it's going into his sister (and out, and in, and out, and *gasp* faster, Lincy, I'm cumming, I'm cumming!). She shuddered and her core tingled. Oh, she wanted that _soooo_ bad. She could live without it, though. Sigh.

That came later, though, first she had to worry about getting him, like, unentangled from Carol Pingrey's net. He really liked her and when you like a girl (or a boy, for that matter) you don't like _other_ girls (or boys). She had to get him to not like Carol orrrr…

Hm, she didn't know.

Tap, tap, tap.

Come on, Leni, you're smart, you can come up with at least _one_ idea

She was still thinking hard when someone knocked on the door five minutes later - or maybe it was fifteen, she didn't know, Lenis have a bad sense of time. "Yeah?" she called over her shoulder.

"Hurry up, I gotta bomb the bowl," Lynn said, her voice muffled.

Leni rolled her eyes. Lynn was _always_ doing this - it's, like, every time she was in the bathroom, she came along and had to poop. She'd heard of people being full of shit, but this was ridiculous.

She giggled, tapped her reflection on the tip of the nose (boop, Leni, bye), then turned and opened the door: Lynn was hunched over, one hand clutching her stomach and the other pressed flat against her butt as if to keep her poop from spilling out. Leni started to say _all yours_ but Lynn shoved her out of the way, went in, and slammed the door, her guts gurgling and bubbling all the while. Leni's eyes narrowed. She was getting _really_ sick of her sisters pushing her around like that. "Rude," she said and whipped her head away. Lincy doesn't do that because Lincy is nice. One day, I'm going to marry him and we're going to have...her face fell into a sad frown. We're going to _adopt_ a baby.

In her room, she sat at her vanity and stared at herself in the looking glass - the corners of her lips were turned down and her eyes were big and brimming with melancholy. Adopting wasn't bad, but now that she was thinking about it, the idea of having a baby that was both hers _and_ Lincy's was _so_ beautiful it made her ache.

A boy can get a girl pregnant without actually putting his peeny in her, right? She saw a movie where a girl went to the doctor and they put boy stuf in her so she could have a baby from her husband who was, like, dead or something. Maybe she and Lincy could do _that_. She scrunched her lips to the side and crossed her arms. It made sense, but what if in addition to the spikey things, his cum didn't work in her? She _would_ ask Lisa, but Lisa might tell Lori and Luna - and she did _not_ want that. Lori and Luna were like the police, and she was a sneaky naughty Leni doing something wrong that wasn't wrong at all but the police _thought_ it was so they'd arrest her if they found out and send her to the stoney lonesome.

She'd have to think more about that stuff later, for right now she needed to worry about actually getting Lincy to be her boyfriend. She got up, crossed to the closet, and opened the door, her eyes scanning the selection of dresses hanging from the rod. She was smart Leni, she could figure this out with just a _little_ grunting and straining.

Let's see, let's see: He likes Carol but I'm not Carol, I'm me; I want him to like _me_ and not, like, see me as his big sister but like a hot girl. How do I go about achieving that end?

Tap, tap, tappity, tap.

She could eliminate the competition like Lola - don't tell anyone, but that guy who attacked Lindsey Sweetwater and broke her knee with a crowbar? That was Chunk; Lola had, like, dirt on him and threatened to turn it over to the police unless he did what she wanted. Leni only knew because she heard Luna singing about it in the shower. She did that sometimes, made up little songs about her deepest, darkest secrets. She (Luna) knew because she and Chunk were friends with benefits (whatever _that_ meant) and they were catching feelings for each other and sharing secrets.

Anyway, she couldn't _seriously_ eliminate Carol, that would be, like, _totes_ mean, and while Lenis can be mean sometimes, they try really hard not to.

She took a dress from a hanger, carried it over to her bed, and laid it out, then went to her dresser for a bra and undies.

Maybe she could talk to Carol girl-to-girl and get her to be her wing woman. Lincy would go in, sit at the counter, and she'd say _Hi, Lincoln, I still don't like you that way, but guess what? I know someone who totes does._ Lincy would get excited. _Oh, and who might that be, Carol?_ Then Leni would pop up from behind the counter, smile, and wave. _It's me!_

She shrugged out of her robe and let it drop to the floor; the cool air caressed her skin like the fingers of a ghostly lover, drawing goosebumps to the surface. She pulled on her panties, then her bra - her nipples were hard and she bit her lip when they brushed against the fabric. She imagined they were Lincy's soft, nimble fingers...then his warm, wet lips, wrapping around, his tongue lovingly stroking, her fingers running through his hair and her head tilting back. _Oh, Lincy._ Then Lincy laid her gently back on the bed and mounted her, his hands exploring her body, touching, petting, _stimulating…_

Warmth spread through her center, and she pressed her thighs together. I just got clean, no dirtiness. Unless Lincy was the one making her dirty- with his lips and his hands and his cum, touching her from head to toe, kissing her, bringing her closer and closer, her body shaking more and more until her eyes finally narrowed and her orgasm broke over her like a bomb blast.

Ummmm, I'm _very_ wet now.

She went over to the vanity and sat with a heavy sigh. She stripped the towel off, tossed it aside, and looked at her hair; it was damp and tangled, but no longer a nature queen crown. She smiled - nature queen. That was Lincy's special pet name for her. Gasp, their very first one! She had to come up with one for him. Nature king was kind of obvious, and she didn't want to, like, slapdash with this, she had to put _work_ into it. She closed her eyes and summoned a vision of his cute face: Beautiful brown eyes, cute freckles, bunny rabbit cowlick and teeth, happy, love-filled smile. A dreamy smile crept across her lips and she sighed again, a long, shivery girlish sound of delight and anticipation. He was, like, the bestest looking guy _ever_ and he had the bestest heart ever. He was totes perfect.

If they had a baby, would it look like him or her? Gasp, she hoped him; he or she would be adorable and everyone would melt into puddles of goo when they saw him or her. _That's, like, Leni and Lincy's baby, they_ totes _make the cutest children!_

Wasn't she thinking about something else when she sat down? She shifted and felt slick between her legs. Oh, right, how turned on I am for Lincy and how much I love him and how to get him to stop liking Carol and like _me_ instead. She tilted her head and regarded her reflection with a thoughtful, pursed-lipped expression that said _I'm working_ real _hard_ _to solve this problem_. Why not, like, just tell him? That's easiest approach. Take his hand and bare your heart, Leni, then bare your _body_.

Hmmm...if something's really easy, though, it's probably wrong, like...the harder solutions are the better ones. Would you rather use duct tape or, like, actually _fix_ what's broken? Oooh! It's like shopping, The cheaper clothes are the easy ones and they aren't as good as the more expensive, or harder, ones.

Ugh. This is _quite_ the conundrum.

Leaning over, she picked up the towel and dried her hair - chew it over with a Snickers. That means do something to buy yourself some time...like to think of an excuse for that racist joke you made, or why your wife found loli art on your computer. _But Hop-Hop is, like, a good artist, I appreciate it just for, like, that and totes_ not _the naked little girls._ She turned to one side, rubbed her head, then to the other, her eyes never leaving the mirror. Hm...why is thinking so _hard?_ Like, Lisa makes it look sooo easy. And so does Lincy; all of her siblings were really smart in their own, special way. And then there was her - you might not have noticed, but she could be _kind_ of dumb sometimes. A mean boy at school said she was a few fries short of a happy meal - that means dumb. She knew that and didn't think he was _really_ talking about a happy meal because she knew _all_ the dumb jokes and insults and stuff - she'd heard 'em all before: Body by God, mind by Mattel; bright as Alaska in December; couldn't pour water out of a boot with instructions on the heel; doesn't have both oars in the water.

People were, like, so mean sometimes. Even her own sisters made jokes about her being a dumb blonde and stuff, and it kind of hurt her feelings.

Lincy didn't do stuff like that; he _never_ teased her or said bad stuff about her. Sigh. That's why she loved him, he was the bestest brother a girl could ever ask for...and the bestest boyfriend and husband... _and baby daddy~_

Her hair was _kind_ of dry now, but it was, like, swept to one side, the bottom sticking out and pointing to the right in like an arrow sign or something ( _come in here, our food is_ totes _the best_ ). She looked kind of like…

Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened as an idea, bright as the face of God, exploded in the center of brain and spread out like nuclear shockwaves, consuming all of her skull and shooting out of her ears in dazzling white shafts, metaphorically speaking.

That's it!

 _I know how I'm going to seduce Lincy now!_

The door opened behind her and, in the mirror, Lori's face appeared. "Dinner," she said curtly, then withdrew. Leni smiled at her reflection, leaned forward, and touched the tip of its nose. _Boop, bye, smart Leni. When I get back we're gonna go get our Lincy._

She got to her feet, held her arms up, hands limp and curved down, and went into the hall, her eyes closed and her head bobbing from side to side as she hummed her battle hymn. _Lincy, Lincy, Lincy, I'm gonna love my Lincy to-night._

Something squished under her foot; a wet pooting sound told her that Luan was at it again. She opened her eyes and turned her head just as her younger sister ducked out of her room with a metal grin. Leni's brow creased and she took a deep, patient breath. "Luan, you really need to stop. No boy wants a girl who poops in her panties every day."

Luan's face fell. "I didn't -"

"You need to see a doctor," Leni said and went down the stairs. At the bottom, her father was holding Lola and Lana apart, one hand splayed on either's forehead and his arms out like he was going to flap away. The twins looked _mad,_ but this was important. "Dad," Leni said, "Luan just pooped on herself _again._ She needs adult diapers."

Lola and Lana's faces both dropped...then they started laughing.

"I did not!" Luan's voice rang from upstairs.

Dad, his face suddenly pinched in concern, released the twins and went to the foot of the stairs. "Are you okay, honey?"

" _I DIDN'T POOP MYSELF!"_

Leni shook her head as she went into the dining room. She's, like, in the Nile - that's a river in Europe, you know _and_ it means that you can't accept the fact that you pooped in your pants.

At the table, she dropped into an open chair between Luna and Lynn. Lincoln sat across from her, and he looked up when she sat, then quickly back down at his plate like he was ashamed. He was so _cute_ when he was ashamed, and happy, and mad, and deep in thought, and scared, but not sad. She didn't like sad Lincy.

Ummm, but she was going to love turned on Lincy, she just knew it. What would he look like? She rolled her eyes to the ceiling and hummed to herself as she imagined it: His face flushed and his eyes narrow, hazy with lust, jaw slack and chest rapidly rising and falling. His cowlick stood stiff and straight just like his beautiful penis, and there was turned on Leni between his legs, making sweet, gentle love to it with her mouth, her head bobbing slowly up and down and her tongue swirling around his length, tracing the vein along its side and flicking the cord at its base. He ran his hands through her hair and whispered her name in breathy tones that told her he was on the verge, her mouth making him feel so good he had little choice but to give into his orgasm. She tucked a strand behind her ear and moved slowly up his shaft, her lips molding tight around him and her hot saliva dripping down his flesh. She reached the head, then went down again: He cried out, tossed his head back, and threw his hips out, his hot cum shooting out and filling her mouth, splattering the back of her throat and sliding into her stomach, where its warmth spread through her body like the sweetest fire.

"Honey?"

Leni started and looked at her father; he sat at the head of the table, a worried expression on his face. All of her sisters, and Lincy, were looking at her strangely. "Are you alright, dear?" Mom asked. "Your face is beet red."

Now that she mentioned it, Leni's face _did_ feel hot...and so did the spot between her legs; damp, too. She nodded quickly. "I-I'm fine," she said and looked down at her plate like a child covering its eyes - _if I can't see you, you can't see me._

No one spoke for a moment, then Dad said, "Alright. Lisa, it's your night to say grace."

At the foot of the table, Lisa sighed. "Father, I've told you that the notion of a deity providing us with -"

"Just do it, runt," Lynn growled, "I'm starving over here."

Lisa sighed. "Fine," she said tightly, and everyone bowed their heads. "Heavenly Father," Lisa said, her voice oozing sarcasm like the walls of the Krusty Krab ooze green slime, "we gather here this afternoon to thank you for this bountiful meal that you personally bought, prepared, and served…"

"Less snark, young lady," Dad admonished.

Leni looked up, and Lincy's eyes darted down to his plate. Oooh, he was looking at _me?_ Then she remembered her hair. Gasp, it's already working! Just wait until you get the full effect, mister; you're, like gonna _love_ it. She grinned at her mashed potatoes and peas as though they were in on the plot. _Shhh, don't tell the chicken breast, but I'm totes gonna get to third base with my brother tonight._

 _And_ stay _there,_ her milk chimed in.

Well…

 _Or die because of Lincy's spikey things,_ the carrots pointed out.

No, I -

 _She's gonna get, like, so turned on and caught up in the moment she's going to forget,_ the chicken said, _or stop caring._ Fuck me, Lincy, I need to feel your dick in me! Spikey things, like, be damned!

That will _not_ happen.

"...perhaps all the starving children in Africa would appreciate a meal as fine as this," Lisa was saying. "And let's not forget the toddlers currently dying of terminal illnesses like childhood cancer, leukemia- "

"Amen," Dad said sharply, ending Lisa's thanksgiving. Lincoln looked up from his plate again, and his eyes met Leni's. She smiled, and his cheeks turned bright red. He flashed a quick smile of his own then looked down at his food like he as having a conversation with it too.

Which he totally was.

 _She's beautiful, I know, but for the love of God, stop looking at her like a hungry dog. Please._

He took a deep breath and picked up his fork; it shook in his hand and when he scooped up a pile of peas, they all fell into his lap and onto the floor. Lucy glanced over, then at his face. "You're supposed to eat those," she said.

Lincoln nodded. "I know."

He darted his eyes up to Leni; she ate with an elegencene and grace that both surprised and aroused him.

Not that way! It aroused something inside of him, something that he couldn't name. It was akin to adoration; watching her, he felt like a peasant watching the passage of his queen, and he, a loyal subject, would do _anything_ to curry her favor, for she was the moon and the stars. He would kneel before her and offer his service, his very life; he would kiss her feet, slowly, and dance his fingers up her slender ankle - his touch producing sweet, musical laughter from her delicate throat. He would kiss higher, his lips skipping across her warm skin, the finest silk in all the land, his hands moving up her legs; her breathing coming faster, more ragged, her teeth clamping her bottom lip and her cheeks blossoming pink like spring flowers.

 _Jesus, Linc, you're sick._

He knew! Shame and guilt filled his chest and his stomach twisted sickishly, but God help him, he was hard, his dick bursting against the seam of his jeans like a caged beast pulling against its shackles, its nose twitching with the scent of woman...of sister.

Swallowing thickly, he sat his fork down and stared into his peas as though they held the answer to all the universe's mysteries - if they did, they did not reveal them to Lincoln Loud.

Thinking of her this way...getting hard off of her...God, it felt like a betrayal, like he was taking the beauty of their normal, wholesome, sibling relationship and soiling it with perverson. What would she think if she knew he was imagining...doing things to her? Laying her back and kissing the inside of thigh until he reached -

Gahhh!

She'd be disgusted, and rightfully so. Hell, _he_ was disgusted. But also turned on. He'd never been so confused in his life - he literally felt like he was being pulled in two opposite directions by an angel who wanted him to be a good, natural, non sicko brother, and a devil who wanted him to invite Leni into his room to snuggle...under the covers...where he could touch her body 'by accident.' He saw himself burying his nose in her warm honey hair, breathing in the clean smell of her shampoo, snaking his arm around her shapely hip, brushing his fingers up the front of her dress, slipping them in and under her bra - her breast was hot, full, and soft in his hand, her hard nipple scraping across his palm. She purred like a kitten and wiggled her butt against his crotch. _This is totes wrong, Lincy,_ she said in a low, needy tone that urged him on, _but it feels_ soooo _good._ He moved his hand along the outside of her leg, pushing the hem of her dress up; now his throbbing dick was free and Leni's legs were up in a sideways V, his hand closed around her ankle and his head prodding against the wet heat of her opening. She looked at him over her shoulder, biting her lip, blushing. _Do it,_ she said, _do_ me.

He slid his hips slowly forward, his rod spreading her pink lips and penetrating her, dipping in with excruciating protraction, her body closing around him inch by hard won inch like wet silk on burning iron. Passion overcame him, and he slammed his hips flush against her butt, his length filling her completely.

Presently, he licked his lips and took a deep, shuddery breath; he was so hard it hurt, and he leaked into his underwear. He was feverish, shaky, and his stomach turned. H-He needed to be alone...away from his family's eyes, away from the shame it awoke in him. "C-Can I be excused?" he asked, his voice uneven.

"You didn't even touch your food," Dad said. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I-I'm just tired," he lied.

Dad hummed. "Well...alright."

Lincoln pushed back from the table, grabbed his plate, and bent at the waist to hide his unnatural incest-boner. He took it into the kitchen, dumped it in the trash, and sat it in the sink. He went back through the dining room, avoiding looking at his family and feeling like the world's biggest scumbag. In his room, he closed the door, crossed to the bed, and flopped on with a weary sigh, his arms and legs spreading like he was making a snow angel. Heh. Angel. He was anything _but_. Lusting over his own sister - pure, sweet, innocent Leni at that. What was wrong with him?

Was it that she reminded him of Carol?

He scrunched his brows in thought. They _were_ similar - both blonde, both beautiful, both sweet and caring. Earlier he looked into Leni's eyes and specifically thought that they made him feel the same way Carol's did, awoke that same soul stirring longing, made his heart race and his palms sweat, made him desperately want to lean his lips into hers, cup her cheek in his hand, and kiss her deeply. Only one was his sister and one wasn't, one emotion was _normal,_ and the other was not.

Maybe he was somehow confusing his emotions for Carol and transferring them onto Leni...or maybe it was the other way around and he was transferring his love of Leni onto Carol. He closed his eyes and thought back over every interaction he could remember having with his sister, which wasn't many, since she was so commonplace that he might as well try remembering every time he passed the lamp in the living room, or each time he'd gone up or down the stairs. Had he ever felt the slightest...hint of deviant love for her? Had his eyes ever lingered on her body longer than they should have? Had he ever looked at her and noticed how beautiful she was, how her lips shimmered in the light, how her golden hair caressed the nape of her neck?

He swallowed. He didn't think so, but there were times he looked at her and realized that she was a girl and not just a sister - he'd done that to all of them, or most of them. It wasn't conscious, and it wasn't something he relished, it was...it was like a momentary slip, curiosity more than anything else. One time, he walked in on Lori in the bathroom; she was standing in front of the mirror with her back to him and getting ready for a date with Bobby.

When he realized she was naked, his eyes widened and his body froze up. She sensed him, turned, and screamed. _Lincoln! Get out!_ She snatched up a hair brush and threw it, but by then he was already retreating. For days, however, his mind kept returning to the pale globes of her breasts, her rigid pink nipples, the blonde hair filling the Y of her sex. He didn't get hard from it, he just...wow, that's what a girl looks like? It was kind of nice.

This, though, _this_ was different - dirty, filthy, disgusting, and so hot it made him squeeze his legs together. God help me, I'm evil.

 _Lord...lead me not into temptation. Please._

* * *

In her room, Leni stood before the open closet door and glanced down at the phone in her hand: Her plan was to, like, lead Lincy into temptation, and she had the _perfect_ idea how to do it. She smiled and patted herself on the back for coming up with it. Gee, for a second there I thought you were back to being dumb Leni, but nope, you're totes a genius. You make Lisa look like a...umm... _not_ genius. She looked at the screen again and carefully studied the picture thereon, then back at the closet. Hmmm...she didn't have clothes like that, though. She glanced at Lori's half, and spotted a pale blue button up shirt with white trim around the collar and cuffs. Gasp, it was perfect. Narrowing her eyes, she looked around, made sure her older sister wasn't around to make a stink, then snatched it off the hanger. Yoink, I belong to Leni now. At least temporarily.

Okay, she had _one_ piece of her seduce-Lincy-into-sin outfit, but she had - she squinted at the phone again - three more parts, four if you count the blue socks separately. Ugh. She went over to the dresser, opened the top drawer, and rooted around until she found a pair of socks just like the ones she needed. Yay. She bounced happily over to her bed, sat, kicked her sandals off, and pulled the socks to her knees. I'm getting there.

She stood up and wiggled her toes against the fabric - she wasn't used to wearing socks and her feet felt so constrained. Lenis like freedom and fresh air, not being cooped up in gross, smelly socks. Lincys, however, liked them, so whateves. As long as he was happy then _she_ would be happy *suggestive wink*

Where was she going to get...she looked at the phone again. I know!

Three minutes and fifteen seconds later, she stood in the middle of Luan's room with her hands fisted together as if in prayer. "Please?" she begged. "I _really_ need it."

Luan, sitting on the edge of her bed with her arms crossed, looked Leni up and down, her brows furrowed. "Why?" she asked suspiciously.

Uhhh...what should she say? "I just do," she moaned.

The younger girl thought for a moment. "It's going to be too small on you; you're going to stretch it out, and I won't be able to wear it anymore. I don't have an endless supply of plaid skirts, you know."

"I'll make you a new one," Leni said, "I promise."

Luan sighed and got up. "Fine. But I want hidden pockets I can carry stuff for my act."

"Done," Leni said.

Luan went over to her dresser, opened one of the drawers, and took out a brown skirt with a black tic tac toe pattern. She turned and handed it to Leni. "Here."

"Thank you!"

In her room, Leni laid her outfit out on the bed, crossed one arm over her chest, and held her elbow in her palm. Tapping the side of her face, she looked it over and nodded to herself. One final piece, and it would be perfect. She crossed to Lori's dresser, looked around, and opened the top drawer. She moved aside her sister's panties (yuck), brushed aside a pack with the word TROJAN on it, and -

Bingo.

Leni grinned.


	5. Loving Lincy

In his room, Lincoln paced back and forth like a convict in a cell, his hands on his hips and his head slightly bowed; his face was ashen and drawn, his eyes pooled with anxiety and his lips a white, bloodless slash. His stride was quick and heedless, six paces from the desk to the door - the walls were starting to close in and the jail cell analogy became more and more apt until he was panting and shaking, the claustrophobic feeling of being trapped gripping him in steely talons. He raked a hand through his hair and took a deep breath that did little to dispel the pressure in his chest. He reached the door, spun, staked to the bed, then turned again. Bun-Bun watched silently from his perch on the dresser, and was it Lincoln's imagination or did the stuffed rabbit look like it was judging him? _You're a real piece of work, Linc, you know that? Lusting after your own sister, man...that's gross._

Sigh. I know it is. It's disgusting and unnatural and it makes me feel dirty, like every fiber of my being is coated in a slick layer of grime.

And the worst part is…

...it's not just lust.

Looking at her body would be one thing, but it's not just her body, it's everything about her - her sweet disposition, her laugh, her tenderness, her affection, her eyes, the way she talks, her innocence. All of those things make me feel like Jell-O, and when I look at her, I don't just think about...you know...dirty stuff, I think about boyfriend-girlfriend stuff: Holding her hand, running his fingers through her hair, snuggling with her, eating ice cream cones and laughing because she got some on the tip of her nose and it was silly and cute. That's _really_ messed up, at least as far as he was concerned. Doing something with your sister...I mean, he could see that, you know? People get aroused and they don't think clearly - one thing leads to another and you're having sex with your sister, your mind screaming at you to stop but your body urging you forward, animal passion winning out over moral (and logical) reasoning. But holding her and kissing the back of her neck after the fire? Waking up the next morning, laying your hand on her cheek, and gazing into her crystal blue eyes, kissing her lips...seeking to _reignite_ the fire?

That's a little over the line.

And if he was honest...he could see himself doing all of those things with Leni.

Door, desk, door, desk, an endless circuit, his pace getting faster as his mind worked. Alright, Linc, you're attracted to your sister and possibly in love with her; good one, real nice. You can't tell her - Jesus God, you can never tell her. Or anyone else, for that matter. Clyde, maybe - he lives in a glass house so what's _he_ gonna do, throw stones? Maybe. Being obsessed with a girl who doesn't want you is creepy, but in a normal way at least; being obsessed with your very own sister is creepy in the worst freaking way possible - like sweaty, smelly, leering and breathing heavy creepy, advanced level creepy. Clyde would probably back away slowly...at best, and puke on him at worst. Maybe not, though. He has two dads, so maybe he's a little more tolerant. He sure as shit couldn't tell his parents, or his sisters. He couldn't say a word; he couldn't write about it in a journal; he couldn't act differently around Leni...God, they're all females and they can probably tell when a boy likes a girl just by sniffing the air.

Alright, lockdown mode. You think Area 51 is top secret? You ain't seen _nothing_ yet. I shouldn't even _think_ about it; God knows Lisa probably has a Mindreader6000 or something hanging around, and Lucy reads tarot cards - she can probably feel the atmosphere or some other new age bs thing.

Okay, okay, okay.

Stop thinking about her.

He cleared his mind, reached the door, and turned.

Then he thought about her.

Ahhh! Stop it, Linc! If you keep it up you're gonna slip, and if you slp...he stopped, his stomach turning violently like a tilt-a-whirl. _Touch her body 'by accident.'_ That's what he thought, wasn't it? He imagined actually doing it...and he didn't know whether to cum or puke. God, if he did that, he'd be the biggest scumbag on the face of the earth...taking advantage of poor, sweet Leni like that. She probably wouldn't even know he was doing it; she'd think he was being extra loving and affectionate or something, when in fact he was being a giant fucking pervert.

No, he couldn't bring himself to do that, but, man, what if he kept feeling this way? What if he loved her day in and day out, seeing her every moment, hearing her voice, smelling her perfume, damned to be always in the presence of the girl he loved but never to have her? You'd think that after a while that'd drive a man crazy...and when someone's crazy they act rashly. He could see himself breaking, going to her, and confessing his feelings, his mind so clouded that he was able to rationalize it. _Worth a shot even if there's a 0.000000000001 percent chance_. And what would she think? Imagine your little brother (or sister) falling on their knees in front of you and proclaiming their undying love. You'd be creeped out, grossed out, taken aback...other synonyms for deeply disturbed...and you'd always look at them differently, always be guarded, always wonder and second guess and he did _not_ want that.

Then again, maybe he was overthinking this; he was acting as though he'd been madly in love with her forever when, really, he only felt the first faint stirring that afternoon, at the park. He just needed some time, that's all, some time to work through this; he reached out and accidentally caught a stray feeling because he was subconsciously reminded of Carol o-or something, and in the morning, it'd be gone like a puff of smoke.

Yeah. Sleep on it. Good idea, Linc. I mean...you're just confused. You were thinking about Carol, then Leni came along and you got worried because she was hurt and your emotions just kinda...got crossed, like a train taking the wrong track at the switchyard. You're reading too much into it; go to bed, get you a full eight, then wake up and wonder what the hell you were thinking; feel a little shame, get over it, and go back to worrying about Carol.

He nodded to himself. Sounded like a plan. He glanced at the clock; it was barely 9pm, but after the mental taxation he'd suffered over the past few hours, he could easily turn in. He turned, went to the door, and stepped into the hall, avoiding the whoopie cushion without even realizing it. "Aw, man," Luan said from her spot behind a potted plant.

In the bathroom, he shut the door, locked it, then gripped the edges of the sink and stared at his reflection: His face was haggard and gray, and his eyes were dark. He looked sick.

Yeah, lovesick.

A shiver went down his spine. No, you're _not_ ; you're a mixed up kid and that's final, now get ready for bed.

Yes, sir.

He opened the medicine cabinet, took out a tube of toothpaste, and squeezed some onto his toothbrush; he stared at himself as he worked, one side of his mouth then the other; he could _see_ Leni in his eyes, so heavy on his mind was she. He spat into the basin, grabbed the mouthwash, and gurgled, his gums tingling painfully. Gah, this stuff is awful. Maybe it'd be better if it was Scope or Listerine, but, like everything else in the house, it was a cheap off brand. Price you gotta pay in such a big family - especially when your mother's a dental assistant and your dad's a common cubicle jockey. Makes you wonder how they can afford _anything_ : Neither position is highly paid, yet we have a big house, food enough for thirteen people, a vehicle, and more luxuries than we ought to.

Maybe Dad sells drugs on the side.

He chuckled sardonically at the image of Dad in sunglasses and a wife beater, his pants sagging below his hips and one hand thrown up in a gang sign. _Royal Woods represent_. That reminded him of a Dad joke he read online.

 _I bought a pair of shoes from a drug dealer...I don't know what he laced them with, but I've been tripping all day._

LOL. Get it?

I sound like Luan now.

He spat, rinsed the sink out, then splashed water on his face. Turning the faucet off, he looked at himself one last time - same old drawn expression, same old haunted eyes. _Hi, kids, I'm Lincoln Loud and I'm sexually_ and _romantically attracted to my older sister, Leni. Pretty fucked up, huh? Don't be like me; I was a normal kid until I tried incest, now I'm married to all ten of my sisters and have ten kids with each of them. My progeny could take over the town if you gave them rifles and extra ammo -_ _my daughters (all ninety-nine of them) have their period at the same time, and my sole son's already gotten eight of them pregnant. If you're reading this message, kill me!_

A wan smile touched his lips, and he turned away. A harem with all of his sisters...and kids. Ha! Talk about fucked up. Let me guess, I sleep with my daughters, too.

His smile turned into a pucker of disgust. Of all the terrible things that had ever crossed his mind, _that_ was the worst.

Even more reason to hate myself, I guess.

In his room, he closed out the world, popped his shirt off, and tossed it into the dirty clothes hamper standing next to the dresser. Next, he pulled his pants down, let them pool around his feet, then stepped out of them and kicked them aside. In his underwear, he crossed to the bed and sat, glancing at the clock. 9:15. Maybe he'd read for a little while. He leaned over, opened the top drawer of the night stand, and pulled out an Ace Savvy comic. Ah, the old standby, always there when you needed to get your mind off your sweet and beautiful older sister and wanted to think of _anything_ but her toned, young body.

 _Shut the fuck up, Lincoln._

Right.

He stretched out on the bed, kicked his leg over his knee, and opened it to the comic to the first page.

Ten minutes later, he was still there, reading and rereading the same passage again and again and failing to retain any of it; his mind wandered, and you can imagine to where. Leni. Leni, Leni, Leni. Poor, pure, innocent, naive, childlike Leni who would be absolutely _appalled_ if she knew he looked at her like that.

Someone knocked on the door, and he jumped. _Mr. Loud, it's the police. Incest is illegal in Michigan, and so is thinking about it. You're gonna have to come with us._ He licked his lips. "Come in," he called. Realizing that whoever it was would see the sin in his eyes, he buried his face in the comic just as the hinges squeaked and someone slipped in, closing the door behind them, the click of the latch catching somehow ominous. He locked eyes with Ace Savvy and waited for her (had to be a her) to speak, but she didn't: The silence was deafening, and as the moments ticked past, the atmosphere grew heavy with dread. His heart started to race as he imagined Lisa glaring at him, her arms folded. _Male sibling, I am aware of your unnatural desires in regards to Leni, and I am here to inform you that our parents, and the local authorities, have been duly notified._ He swallowed hard and waited.

Nothing.

Finally he closed the comic book, looked up...and froze.

"Hi, Lincy," Leni purred.

Lincoln's jaw fell open with a clunk. His sister stood in the middle of the room, her hands on her cocked hips and her eyes narrowed to lustful slits. Lincoln's gaze slowly took her in, scanning up and down and his brain misfiring in confusion. Normally, she wore an aquamarine dress with white trim, but now, she was dressed in a blue button-up blouse, a plaid skirt, socks pulled up to her knees, and a blue headband. Her long blonde hair curved to one side near the bottom like a pointing finger.

She looked like Carol Pingrey.

Lincoln's mouth went dry and he tried to speak, but wound up gaping like a fish suffocating on a beach. She giggled and came over, her rounded hips swishing hypnotically back and forth; he could only watch as she planted one knee on the bed, her teeth grazing her lower lip and her blue eyes glinting with a dirty light he'd never seen in them before...never _expected_ to see in them.

She swung her other knee onto the bed and loomed over him, the hem of her skirt brushing the blanket and her chest pushed out - Lincoln's heart stopped mid-beat when he realized he could see the dark patches of her nipples through the fabric.

He stirred, and finally his vocal cords unlocked. "L-Leni, what are you doing?"

She bent forward, her back arching; her face hovered inches from his, her smell filling his nose and her sweet breath breaking hotly against his lips. A wicked smile tugged at one corner of her mouth and her pupils dilated, putting Lincoln in mind of a shark who'd just caught the scent of blood. "I'm not Leni," she said and threw one leg over his; she laid her hands on his shoulders and shifted onto him, her knees on either side and the her humid, dizzying heat pooling in his lap, making his breathing catch, "I'm Carol." She moved in for the kill and pressed her wet, burning lips to his forehead, her fingers dancing up his neck to his face, sending sickly shivers racing through his body. "And I _totes_ wanna be your girlfriend."

She ran her fingers through his hair and kissed him above the left eye, then on the ridge of his cheek. Her breathing was coming faster as her excitement grew. Lincoln was paralyzed, his brain going haywire like a power plant in meltdown and his hands twitching uselessly at his sides. His dick strained against his underwear, and his heart blasted hard, fast, the thunder-like sound echoing through the chambers of his head. Suddenly, he was _hot,_ his body on fire and his lungs filled with smoke. Leni moved her lips down the side of his face, leaving a burning trail of saliva along his skin, her nails scratching lazy circles in his scalp. She rocked her hips slowly forward, and the hem of her skirt brushed his cotton-clad erection, then slipped over, drawing it to the source of her heat.

Trailing her fingers down his face, she reached the corner of his mouth, her body flush against his, and rolled her sultry eyes up to him. "Do you wanna be my boyfriend?" she asked.

Tremors went through him and he shook like Michael J. Fox off his meds. Dense desire choked his brain - he couldn't think, couldn't reason, all he could do was _feel_ : Her warm, pillow breast smooshed flat on his chest, her heart beating wildly next to his, her fingertips stroking softly down his chest to his stomach. The base of his spine tingled painfully as she dragged her nails lightly across the sensitive flesh just above his waistband, and a sharp _nngh_ tore from his contracting throat.

"Do you?" she asked.

He jerkily turned his head, and his eyes met hers.

In that moment, he decided.

As wrong as it might have been, as disgusting and unnatural, he nodded. "Y-Yes."

She smiled with her eyes, and Lincoln smiled back, then they leaned into each other's lips, their mouths opening and their tongues meeting with an electric jolt. Leni laid her palm flat on his chest and Lincoln cupped her cheek in his hand, his fingers threading through her hair. Their heads tilted left and right as the kiss deepened; his tongue plundered the inside of her mouth, tasting and prodding every crevice, exploring every nook, and hers did likewise, flopping and swirling clumsily around his, her fingers curling into his skin.

They pulled apart, mouths hanging open, cheeks blushing, eyes hazy and a long ribbon of their mingled drool connecting them like a rope bridge joining two sides of a canyon. They stared at each other for a panting second, then molded their lips together again, their tongues working faster now, more needily. Her hands moved down his body, brushing over his bulge and making his gasp; his tangled in her hair, tugging mindlessly as she slipped her fingers into his underwear and yanked them down. His dick popped out and trembled when the cool air touched it. She wrapped her fingers around and brushed her thumb across the tip, making him shake. He slid his hand into her shirt, his fingers closing around one pert breast, her nipple scraping the pad of his palm just as it had in his fantasy.

When the kiss broke, she stared at him with racy eyes and bit her lower lip; her fingertips kneaded his throbbing shaft, her touch sending crackles of hot red sensation streaking through him, igniting every nerve ending and setting his body aflame. He rubbed her nipple with his thumb; her eyelids fluttered and she hummed. "That feels good."

"D-Does it?" he asked dumbly. He'd never done this before and he felt like he was fumbling.

She nodded and licked her lips. She moved in and Lincoln tilted his head to one side, but instead of his lips,she kissed the side of his neck, her hand releasing his dick and moving up his stomach. She scooted down and kissed his shoulder, then his chest; looking up at him, she wrapped her lips around his nipple and sucked, her salva hot on his flesh. He slipped his hands into her hair and reveled in its soft, silky touch; she moved lower, stringing kisses from his pecs to the mound curving down to his sex. He tossed his head back and squirmed; when she reached his dick, she drew back and planted her hands on either side of his legs, her eyes crossing cutely as she looked at it. "It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," she said and kissed the tip, making Lincoln gasp. "Aside from, like, your face and your heart."

Bending, her hair swishing across the top of his leg, she took it in her mouth and bobbed her head down slowly, her tongue forming around his shaft and her lips shaping tight to his skin. Lincoln let out a long, breathy "Ahhhh," like a man wading into cold water. The wet feeling of her hot spit coating him, her tongue lapping him, was indescribable; his entire body prickled from head to toe and he sucked great gulps of air into his bursting lungs, his fingers mindlessly twisting and writhing in her hair. She reached his base, then pulled all the way up, spitting him out and looking at it with a devious grin. She glanced at him, then back at it, the tip of her tongue swiping across her bottom lip. She bent her head and kissed it, then flicked it with her tongue, giggling girlishly when it twitched. "It's alive," she said, and for some reason that made him laugh too.

She formed her lips around the head then jerked down again, taking him to the hilt. She pulled back, wrapped her hand around the base, and started to pump, her eyes rolling back into her head and enthusiastic moans and satisfied grunts rising from her mouth.

Hot lead filled Lincoln's stomach, and he fisted the cover in his hands, his hips lifting and falling with the tide of Leni's ministrations. Her speed slowly increased until her head was flying back and forth, her saliva and his precum smearing him dripping down his shaft. His orgasm started to form in the pit of his stomach and his heart seized. He didn't want this to end. "S-Stop," he panted.

Leni pulled back and looked at him, her head cocking quizzically; her lips were stained silver. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"I-I almost came," he forced.

She giggled. "That's the point, silly," she said.

"I-I don't want to. Yet."

Her eyes clouded with confusion, then cleared when she caught his meaning. She straddled him, tossing her hair to one side, and splayed her hands on his shoulders. "Did I do a good job?" she asked.

Lincoln nodded. "Yeah. Real good."

She grinned. "Good." She kissed his forehead. "I love you, Lincy, and I want you to feel good." She noticed that her chest was level with his face, and that he was staring at it. She smiled and caressed his forehead. "Do you wanna see them?"

Lincoln swallowed. Yes. Yes, he did.

Inferring this, Leni smirked and undid the top button, then the second, inch after inch of creamy white flesh exposing to his hungry eyes. Half way down, he couldn't take it anymore; he brushed her arms away and slipped his hands in, his fingers closing around them. Leni sighed and chewed her bottom lip, her eyes lidded and smoldering with passion. He brushed his thumbs across her rigid nipples and the blush on her cheeks deepened, going from soft pink to bright red. She threw her head back and leaned into his touch, her body twisting beneath his hands and her heart pounding in his palm. He stared up at her delicate throat, her trembling lips, her face, her expression one of pure, head-swimming bliss. Her dank heat pounded against his dick like the Amazonian sun, and when she shifted, his head scraped her inner thigh.

"Oooh, Lincy," she sighed. She leaned even closer, her smell enfolding him, making his mouth water. He released her breasts and stared at them for a moment: Her nipples were a soft shade of pink and swollen with desire. She tilted her head down, and their eyes met...then he leaned in and wrapped his lips around one. She bit her bottom lip and stroked his hair, a sigh bursting through her teeth when he began to suckle, the salty taste of her skin filling his mouth like nectar. She cupped the back of his neck in her hand and brought him closer. His tip raked across her soft, quivering lips, and they both moaned in unison; Lincoln's hips lifted as if of their own accord, or as if by the hands of Mother Nature. He unlatched from her nipple and peppered kisses across her chest, then up to her throat, his lips pressing against her crazily beating pulse and his hands fluttering to her hips.

Leni drew a deep, heaving breath; she was hot from head to toe and trembling with need...the need to feel her brother's penis filling her, spreading her virgin walls and placing soft Lincy kisses against the opening of her womb. She couldn't, though, because of his spikey things.

But maybe...if she was really quick...they wouldn't come out. Like, it took her awhile to realize things, so what's to say it wouldn't take his penis a while too?

A quiet voice in the back of her mind said that it was a bad idea, but it was drowned out by her rapidly building lust. She pulled away from Lincy and looked deeply into his eyes, a slow, dreamy smile spreading across her face. She stroked his cheek and flicked his cowlick. "We have to be, like, quick," she said.

Before he could reply, she swiveled her hips, and shivered at the feeling of his tip dragging down through the center of her folds. When it pushed against her opening, she took his face in her hands and he stared at her in wonder, awe, and _love~_

She settled a little, letting him slip just an inch in - giving it a head start, get it? - and sucked her lips into her mouth at the strange, new feeling of having something in there. Lincoln's grip on her hips tightened and he held her gaze.

Heart racing in fear and excitement, she jerked down, a hiss escaping over her teeth as he sank into her, stinging, straining against her walls, and prodding her cervix. Lincoln threw his head back and moaned loudly.

Like a shot, she brought her hips up, her lips slipping over his head. She was so hot she was, like, going to erupt in flames, and her body convulsed as though shot through with electricity.

Bowing her head and swallowing thickly, her hair hanging in her face, she sank onto him again, her body gripping him tight. She pulled off, then slid down his shaft more slowly, savoring the sensations eveloping her. She drew back to almost the head, and sheathed him once more, her body taking her over and passion consuming her mind, spikey things completely forgotten in the smoky haze filling her mind.

Lincoln dug his fingers into her hips and lifted, sending himself deeper into her boiling core; her muscles clenched his and her wet, satiny walls rippled along his length like tongues of fires.

She went faster, bouncing now, and each time her body met his, his orgasm was knocked just a little closer to the surface. She spread her fingers across his cheeks and pressed her forehead against his, gasps and grunts shooting from her bobbing throat with every Lincy kiss he placed at the entrance to her womb.

"Oh, God," she said in a whispering pant, "God, God, God, God…"

Lincoln bore down on his teeth; his climax was bubbling up and he couldn't stop it, didn't _want_ to stop it; it crested like a wave and he gave in, allowing himself to be swept away like a boy by a stormy surge. He expanded inside of her and erupted, his cum shooting from him in a jet and flowed into her waiting pussy, like a bee pollinating a flower. She cried out and jerked against him, her mouth falling open and a breathy moan issuing forth; her body clamped around him, and they pressed their foreheads together, Leni's body shivering pleasantly and tiny gasps escaping her lips. Lincoln wrapped his arms around her and held her tight as they rode out their mutual finish.

For a long time afterwards, she sat in his lap, her arms at her sides and her face nested in the crook of his neck, panting and shuddering as the occasional aftershock raced through her. Lincoln ran her hair through his fingers and kissed her forehead. When he began to shrink, she shifted off, and his seed came out of her in a rush, plopping onto his lap...and the bed.

She curled up next to him, and he slipped his arm around her shoulder. Neither spoke, both basking in the warm, sleepy afterglow of their lovemaking.

At some point, as he drifted, he was pulled back by a sharp gasp. "I forgot!" she said.

Lincoln opened his eyes and turned his head. "What?"

"Your spikey things...they didn't, like, activate."

Lincoln furrowed his brow and started to ask what in the hell she meant, but she closed her eyes, cuddled up to him, and flashed a big, happy, closed-lip smile. "I love you, Lincy."

Lincoln grinned. "I love you too," he said, and kissed the tip of her nose, laughing when her face crinkled.

That night, they slept together.

* * *

"Goddamn it," Lisa Loud grumbled and threw her head back. Next to her, Lola and Lana continued their tug of war over a stuffed bear, Lana pulling right and Lola pulling left. Lola bumped into Lisa's arm again, and Lisa glared at the back of her blonde head with murder in her eyes.

It was Sunday morning and raining out, so everyone was cooped up indoors like chickens in a henhouse. Lisa knelt in front of the coffee table, its surface covered with tubes, vials, and dishes, some of them empty and others bubbling with a techno witch's brew that would, if knocked over by a careless child's roughhousing, make Captain Trips look like the sniffles. She supposed she should carry it all back upstairs lest Lola and Lana unleash the apocalypse, but, truth be told, she enjoyed these rare rain days with her family, and when she woke this morning to the hiss of precipitation in the street, she felt a mild twinge of excitement, which, given her clinical indifference, was equivalent to another girl's squealing and jumping for joy.

"Could you two please stop? You're going to open Pandora's Box if you continue your inane bickering."

They ignored her, and she sighed.

"Take that stuff upstairs," Lori said from the couch, where she sat Indian style with her head bowed over her phone. Luna was perched on the arm, tuning her guitar with cocked headed concentration. Luan and Lynn sat side-by-side, Lynn against the other arm and absently tossing a football into air and Luan practicing her ventriloquism with Mr. Coconuts. She wasn't very good.

Lisa sighed. "I suppose it's for the best." She stood, and glanced over her shoulder when Leni came down the stairs, hands up and bent, a musical hum emanating from her lips. She came over, stopped, and crossed her arms.

"You were wrong," she said, a smug edge to her voice.

Humph. Lisa turned back to the table and began to gather her things. "I highly doubt that," she said, "but I'll humor you. What, pray tell, was I wrong about?"

"Lincy's spikey things."

Lisa's blood froze; Lori whipped her head up and Luna looked over her shoulder. "What?" Lisa demanded.

Leni sniffed. "Lincy and I had sex and we're both okay. No spikey things came out."

Lori's hand went to her mouth and the color drained from Luna's face. Luan gaped, and Lynn sat up straight, eyes wide and jaw slack with shock. Lisa tried to speak, but could only open and close her mouth like a fish. Leni giggled, bent over, and touched the tip of her nose. "Looks like you don't know as much as you think you do."

With that, she turned and went back upstairs, leaving her sisters to stare after...then at Lisa, Lori and Luna with sneers and everyone else agog. "Way to go, Lise," Lori snarled, "you really headed _that_ off at the pass."

Suddenly dizzy, and sick to her stomach, Lisa sat her things back down, took a deep breath, and hung her head. "Leni was right," she said at length, her voice pained, "I was wrong and I don't know as much as I thought I did."

Admitting that hurt, but not as badly as being whacked with a pillow by an angry Lori.

That hurt quite a bit worse.


End file.
